Life is But a Dream
by 12VelvetWhispers
Summary: What are you supposed to do when the man you love can't maintain a healthy bond with you? What is he supposed to do when you decide to get drunk and screw everything up? Could the object of your sin be the balm for your broken relationship?
1. Prison

**Story Title**: Life Is But a Dream

**OC by**: Kuraime-Zhen

**Warnings**: Story may contain a fair amount of harsh language, violence, sexual content, & angst. Thoughts are in _italics_.

**Characters in Chapter**: Ichigo, Toshirou

**Disclaimer**: I do NOT own any of the copyrighted Bleach characters, themes, places, ideas etc. They belong to Tite Kubo in all of his glory. The OC in this story belongs to Kuraime-Zhen who has so graciously given me free-reign over his character.

**AN**: This is the first chapter of a fiction that was requested to me by fellow ff .net author _**Kuraime-Zhen**_ a little over a month ago. I am posting this first chapter to kind of 'wet his taste buds' for the story. So, if it takes a bit to get this story moving with decent momentum, bear with me. Forgive me if there are any typos, I shall edit them upon completion of the story.

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**Chapter One**: Prison

* * *

_**Ichigo Kurosaki – age 20 – 2**__**nd**__** year College student and Substitute Soul Reaper**_:

"There are a number of common themes in a good story, which is why almost all best-selling books are nearly the same story written a hundred different ways. But there are also a number of overdone and worn out spotlight messages that are better left in children's books and the sappy romance novels that my 2-bedroom flat neighbor Ishida reads when he thinks I'm not watching him."

"Take the topic of love, for example. Almost every single story on every single shelf in every little library in the world has at least a subplot about love or romance; and usually it's even the _main_ plot. Why is this? Well, the answer is simple: People love to see relationships form and everything to be rainbows and butterflies in the end, even when everything else seems bleak. People want something hopeful and heartfelt to hold onto."

"Well, my story is no different…or should I say, **our** story?"

* * *

The evening was a humid and icy one, threatening both rain and snow simultaneously. The air was heavy with moisture and the wind held a biting chill to it that the fiery-haired Substitute Soul Reaper was not accustomed to at this time of year. _Man, I'm never going to get used to these backwards seasons_… he thought as he slid open the door to the 10th Division office.

At first, Ichigo thought the room was empty, for there were no signs of the ice-wielding Captain of the 10th Division at his desk, which was a very rare occurrence. The room was dark, lit only by the hint of sunlight as the giant sky-orb descended slowly under the horizon. He could see the daunting stacks of papers that created a very mountainous appearance on the cherry wood desk, the quill still resting motionlessly in its home next to the inkwell as if it had never even been removed. _That's weird_… Ichigo frowned in confusion and prepared to leave when a soft, almost inaudible, sigh came from the far corner of the room, stopping him before he could turn over his shoulder.

The deep burgundy sofa that resided on the opposite side of the desk was normally occupied by the buxom strawberry-blonde lieutenant after a long night of liquor and socializing, but right now it was occupied with a figure he had never seen anywhere near the piece of furniture. None other than his snow-prince, Toshirou Hitsugaya, was lying on his back, the top of his right forearm covering his eyes, the other resting lightly against his lean tummy. His Captain's haori was uncharacteristically rumpled about him, as he appeared to be sleeping, and the wind from the opened window across the room was flirtatiously playing with his hair, his chest rising and falling slowly with his breathing.

_Oh? So, he finally gave in and collapsed? That's odd; he usually goes back to his room for privacy. I wonder what's up…_

Ichigo couldn't suppress the grin of amusement and the swell of his heart at the sight of his frosty dragon in such calm appearance, even if he immediately knew that Hitsugaya was not the type to come in to work for a nap, regardless of what his other faults might have been. _Damn, he must've stayed up all night reading through the piles of endless reports and signing away at stuff that doesn't even matter to him in the least. I told him it would catch up with him eventually, poor 'Shiro._

With a small pang of concern, he took a few steps forward, closing the door firmly and locking it behind him. This was the first time in a very long time, probably since Christmas six months ago, that he had seen the young tendo so exhausted and unconscious.

True, it would be weird if Hitsugaya suddenly woke up to see his long-distance boyfriend leaning over him, but Ichigo craned his neck to view him closer anyway, laughing internally at the thought that his little warrior was such a hard-headed man when awake, but so adorable when in slumber. Now, when Toshirou wasn't concentrating on paperwork, fighting some battle, glaring at his lover's foolish antics, and wasn't giving out commands in his firm voice that demanded respect, all negative or overbearing aspects of his personality were overshadowed by the sheer peaceful appearance of his current situation.

The thick mane of snow-white hair was framing his pale almond-shaped face with just a touch of light pink on his now parted lips, his porcelain skin practically glowing in the dim light of the now setting sun. The fan of long thick, blonde lashes ran along the length of his large, closed eyes under the straight line of high silver eyebrows. Even his entire frame, lean and well toned, held that strange combination of the delicate strength of a harsh winter wind and rigid grace of an ice-capped pond that one would skate upon. He was an attractive man –not handsome, but 'beautiful'– not like a woman, but rather a sculpture.

Ichigo shook his head to break himself from the daze settling over him. _Now is not the time to be getting turned-on_…

He was so preoccupied with slowing his blood that he didn't see Hitsugaya's hand move, before suddenly feeling a cold, clammy grip on his wrist. Ichigo snapped his face to look back at the ice-prince to see that the Captain was still asleep, but the peaceful expression on his face was now gone.

He stirred slowly, a frown marring his sharp features, emitting a small noise of protest as his lithe fingers clutched Ichigo's wrist with surprising strength considering his state of unconsciousness. The grip was not painful or demanding, but almost desperate, as if reaching out for someone to pull him up from some great height. The young Captain's frown deepened and, if Ichigo hadn't known him any better, he would have said that his little dragon looked afraid.

It was what he heard next that confirmed his concerns and suspicions…

"Don't go…" the voice was soft and muffled from exhaustion, but impossible to not understand, "please…"

Hitsugaya murmured some other incoherent things, oblivious to the fact that he was making his lover gape at him, his heart clenching in his chest with worry and confusion, leaving Ichigo frozen with his own brand of fear.

This was not the characteristic cantankerous attitude of his cranky partner. He was never one to show any signs of weakness to anyone, even his own lover, and hearing the manifestation of Toshirou's internal struggle left Ichigo feeling very hollow inside, afraid of what else he might hear that his boyfriend was hiding from him in the dark recesses of his mind.

Ichigo looked down upon the sleeping tendo as if he was seeing someone new, a stranger that was wearing the skin of his love. This vulnerability, this frightened tone in his voice – this was not something that he had ever seen his ice warrior exhibit. It was strange and eerily unnerving.

He knew he was being neurotic, but the fact that it happened to be _his_ wrist that Hitsugaya was clinging to in this subconscious act of desperation suddenly made Ichigo want to do just about anything to soothe away the pain. _This is my lover; I can't just sit by and let this happen. I have to do something. I can't believe I let him get this deep into his solitude. Why can't he just talk to me when something is troubling him…?_

There must've been dozens of things he could do, not the last one of them would be to just wake Toshirou up, but Ichigo seemed to have stopped thinking entirely, unable to process what the best course of action could be. The only thing he could think to do was to pull his lover's lean body into a sitting position on the couch and cradle his little dragon to his chest, sliding the smaller shinigami into his lap and holding him tightly, placing his frowning face into the junction of his neck and shoulder.

The fact that Toshirou didn't wake up was a astounding, considering how light of a sleeper the young Captain usually was. Ichigo took this moment and dared to place a soft, chaste kiss on his lover's forehead, burying his nose in the down-soft locks of his snow-white hair, the fresh scent tickling his senses. He found the man's forehead to be covered in a light sheen of sweat, sending his heart into another set of skipped beats of worry. If Hitsugaya would have woken and screamed at him for indecency in his office, then the panic of the moment would be extinguished and he would safely return to being his snobby, irritable boyfriend. But that's not what the small shinigami did…

Instead, he had sighed contentedly, relaxing into his touch – Ichigo had not expected such a reaction from Toshirou Hitsugaya. It was unexpected, unnatural and scary.

But the scariest thing of all was that, against the hot flesh of his neck, he could feel the frigid lips of his lover being pressed lightly, sending shivers down his spine at the contact. If there was one thing that his little tendo never did, it was to initiate any sort of physical affection.

Perhaps it was only natural for it to make such a big impact. After all, who would've thought that this usually cold, arrogant, stubborn Captain of the 10th with no affection for anything except watermelon and the late Vice-Captain of the 5th, could actually make a face like that – weak, vulnerable, and afraid.

Ichigo shook his head, trying to erase that face from his mind before he could throw himself into an even greater panic. _What the hell is going on here?_ Then there was the feeling of those lips again…the action wasn't passionate or lingering – just a soft brush of lips. He had experienced longer, more intimate, and more passionate kisses with the young tendo during the intimate interludes they had participated in within the confines of the Captain's quarters, but there was something about this that was so haunting.

All in all, the whole thing was nerve-wracking, "I guess he must be pretty lonely," he sighed to himself, regretting the fact that he couldn't come to visit his love very often now that finals for his 4th semester of college were quickly approaching, taking up all of his spare time, turning their daily tea and dinner routines into weekly half-hour visits.

"Who is?"

The orange-head's heart jumped so high that for a moment he thought he would choke on it. He swiftly looked down at the man in his arms only to see Hitsugaya watching him with a strangely amused expression.

"T-Toshirou?"

"Who is?" the named Captain's voice was still heavy with sleep, fading out at the end of his sentence.

It was hard to answer the question that sounded as if he wasn't even completely coherent. He just hoped Hitsugaya wouldn't press the issue further.

He did.

"Who is the lonely person that you speak of?" returned the soft voice of the warrior in his arms, slightly more awake this time.

Ichigo sighed deeply as he felt a thin hand tighten around the folds of his black robes, his gaze lowering to meet those tired, but still beautiful teal orbs that were looking at him, cloudy with sleep and confusion. "I don't mean to sound like a mother hen, but you don't seem to be yourself tonight, Toshirou…"

He was met with silence as the smaller man tensed slightly in his arms, almost as if he was just realizing the position that they were in.

"… Is that so? I apologize," came the unexpected tense reply.

Fear flooded him once more at the sudden onset of an apology from the stubborn shinigami in his arms. _Apparently that was the wrong thing to say…_

"…Toshirou?"

The young tendo blinked a few times as if forcing himself back to reality. The panic that had barely left Ichigo, was surfacing again now that he realized that he wasn't getting a response.

The ice-wielder merely pulled himself away from the Substitute's embrace and, after straightening his robes and haori, walked to his desk as if prepared to return to paperwork. The spell was broken…

The young Captain of the 10th picked up his quill, dipped it in the inkwell, and pulled the first paper of off on of the many stacks littering his cluttered desk. As if nothing had just happened, he lowered the quill to the paper, merely scanning the page before scribbling the name on the signature line. "What brings you here so late, Kurosaki?"

Ichigo was floored, choosing to ignore the sudden use of his surname, "I wanted to drop in and see how you were doing before I take my first final in a few days and things get kind of crazy at home. Why else would I be here?"

The Captain nodded silently in approval, his eyes never leaving the papers in front of him, "I see. Well, I hope that your exams go well. You should get home so you are rested enough to maybe think semi-clearly for them. Don't let me keep you here."

Ichigo's frown became a puzzle expression, "No, Toshirou, you're never a burden. I enjoy seeing you. You had me kind of worried when I first walked in, seeing how tired you were and all, but if you're okay then we can go get some dinner or something really quick before I head out."

Toshirou barely acknowledged him, merely blinking as he continued to sign documents, "I don't think so. I have far too much work to do. You should come back later this week."

Ichigo felt a sting of hurt graze his heart, "But I already told you that I won't be able to come for a nearly a week now that finals are starting. Don't you listen to anything I say?"

Toshirou, never looking up, replied, "Oh, then I suppose I will see you when your exams are complete. Good luck, Kurosaki."

Ichigo knew what he was doing. He knew that his ice prince was trying to get rid of him so that he didn't have to face the embarrassment of his previous actions. This was the Toshirou he fell in love with, albeit it was the part of his lover that he wished he could change. "I'm not leaving yet, Toshirou. Stop trying to get rid of me... Why _are_ you trying to get rid of me anyway?"

The smaller shinigami never paused in his work, and it was beginning to irritate the Substitute. The answer also left much to be desired from the snowy warrior, "_Kurosaki_, why do you keep asking questions that you already know the answers too?"

Ichigo gritted his teeth, "Why can't you just answer them, _Hitsugaya_?" he retorted, matching his lover's undesirable habit of using surnames.

He could see the frustration shining in the turquoise eyes of his partner as he continued the work numbly, "You know I am no good at talking about these kinds of matters – "

"You know, words aren't the only way to tell someone how you feel…" Ichigo impulsively interrupted him, cutting off any further damage that could be done should he complete that statement.

The softly pleading voice of the Substitute Soul Reaper echoed through the nearly empty office as the being it was directed towards finally froze in his motions, the light quill halting mere millimeters from its destination. Words…where had they gone? The young man had said that words weren't the only way…but what if there weren't even words? For the deceptively elder, though smaller, male sat frozen in thought, nothing could explain the disappearance of the tiny groupings of letters that everyone knew as 'words.'

He didn't know how to put them together, or how to explain in any capacity how he felt. It just wasn't a gift that he bore. Not like the orange-haired man that stood before him, arms crossed over his lithe chest, a disappointed frown present on his sharp features. No, Toshirou wasn't sure that his mind was ever working properly when it came to the affairs of the heart. He wasn't good with any kind of words – he never had been. This time was no exception.

"What is it going to take to get you to open up to me? Am I going to have to beg? Am I going to have to constantly keep prodding? Or should I just accept defeat and learn to be satisfied with just 'knowing' that you aren't self-destructing? I worry about you, 'Shiro; Do you know that? Sometimes I wonder if that even matters to you…"

With that, the orange-haired Substitute turned over his shoulder, taking long strides toward the door, the exit, the portal that would take him away from his icy lover. Said lover finally panicked…

"Wait."

The tall twenty-year-old halted his steps mere inches from the exit, his body rigid with tension and frustration. The silence was heavy, tension setting in quickly as he waited for Toshirou to speak, a glimmer of hope igniting, but quickly being quashed by the overriding knowledge that his lover never knew what to say, and that this time probably wasn't any different.

When the silence continued for a few more long moments, Ichigo had endured enough, sighing deeply in defeat, "Okay, Toshirou. Whenever you are ready, you come and find me. If that doesn't happen, then I guess I'll just see you in a few weeks when I'm done with school. You should use this time to sort yourself out; find out where I fit in with the rest of your life…if I even do. Have a nice night."

And before Toshirou could say anything, the substitute slid open the door to the office and exited the building, slamming the wooden frame shut behind him. Disappearing into the night, he left his ice prince to the paperwork with a heavy heart and frazzled mind to take him prisoner once again.

…**_TBC_**…


	2. Protagonist

**A/N**: So here is the second chapter. I am going to introduce the new OC in this one. I hope you enjoy.

Rating: PG

Warning: Not really any, maybe some language

Characters in Chapter: Ichigo, Kuraime, Byakuya, Rukia

Current Song Stuck in Head: Audience of One – Rise Against

* * *

**Chapter Two**: Protagonist

* * *

The air was thick with moisture, the clouds begging to let the heavy rain, like lead in their cushions, descend to the dry, thirsty earth below, bursting forth with overwhelming might and purpose. The night was nearly upon them, the frigid breeze of evening air catching their robes and billowing them with a gentle, invisible hand.

The long slender piece of wood and metal in his callused hands was firmly held erect before him as his tired eyes hid beneath their tan lids, awaiting the next catalyst that would break his meditation and evoke the rush of excitement that always accompanied a thoroughly refreshing spar.

The moment brought with it an onslaught of adrenaline as metal clashed with steel and the metallic 'clang' echoed through the small, wall-less, outdoor dojo that the two Shinigami were occupying. It was only now that the younger of the two allowed his blade to extend and match his opponent's parry, his lids retreating to reveal bold, sapphire jewels, flashing with determination and purpose as they met the slate-grey orbs of his counterpart.

The 'ring' of swordplay was heard once more, bouncing off of the roof and floor with a chiming resonance as the duo continued to pass the attack from one blade to the other. As the match ensued, the older, more seasoned of the warriors, sliced through the air, narrowly missing the left cheekbone of his sparring mate, instead sending tiny particles of condensation spraying over the young man's face as his blade swooped horizontally in an attempt at mock decapitation, only to have his move fail as the agile youth ducked gracefully away from impending doom.

The back and forth dance of the evening spar had once been a routine for many years, a welcome distraction at the end of the day. Tonight was the first time in nearly a month that they were allowed the privileged free time to partake in such revelry. As their bodies moved in tandem, ducking, spinning, and attacking, all was silent, save for the sound of metal on metal and the quickened breath of the two participants. There were no grunts of exertion, mudslinging insults, or gasps of surprise, for both Shinigami were much too disciplined fighters to show weakness in battle.

With one final move, the dark haired Captain of the 6th Division spun about and pounced upon the one weak spot of the silver-haired 3rd seat of Squad 5, his blue scarf and haori billowing in the breeze. With practiced ease and regal grace, he connected his katana with the stunned Shinigami's left ankle, but only with enough power to leave a small slit in his white tabi. Said Shinigami tripped and landed unceremoniously on his back, his breath coming in labored pants as he slid his eyes shut, head thrown back in defeat, "Still as smooth with that blade as every, brother," came the soft complement, followed closely with a nearly indiscernible chuckle from the addressed.

"Much thanks, Kuraime, you have definitely improved since last we sparred. Have you been training with Captain Ukitake again? You should really give the ill man a break, you will spar him to his death one of these days," was the reply from the older warrior, dripping with humor that was reserved for the young man before him alone, the stoic mask falling effortlessly.

Extending a hand, the normally stone-faced Captain pulled his baby brother from the dusty ground below, brushing some of the sweat-slicked hair from in front of his shining oceanic orbs. "Thank you, Byakuya. It is always enjoyable to witness the last remnants of your more relaxed side. You should really step away from that paperwork more often. It is starting to squelch what little light you still have in your eyes," came the smooth, softly spoken words of the blue-eyed Kuchiki as he rested a hand on his older brother's left shoulder.

Byakuya re-sheathed his zanpakuto and smirked softly at the young man before reverting to his usual icy exterior, "Get yourself cleaned up. Dinner will be served in half and hour. I expect to see you there."

And with that, he turned over his shoulder and retreated into the depths of the Kuchiki mansion. Kuraime chuckled slightly and rolled his eyes at the transformation of his brother, "Well, at least he knows how to take a break from it every once in a while…"

Re-sheathing his katana, he ran his free hand through his shoulder-length silver hair, feeling the icy wind cool his heated skin. The peaceful silence was interrupted by the distinct rumbling sound of his stomach, protesting for a meal. Laughing to himself, he turned back to the ornate mansion, "Well, I guess I should go get ready for dinner. No sense in keeping an empty stomach waiting when there are talented cooks that have been slaving away for the last few hours."

Then, just as his brother had done, Kuraime closed his eyes and relinquished his boyish persona, adopting a rigid facade that nearly rivaled the Head of the Kuchiki clan's. His jaw set squarely, eyes focused intensely, shoulders back, chin forward - he took his first steps toward the mansion. As he left the silent dojo, any who might have been there to see would have noticed how, with the mere closing of his sapphire eyes, Kuraime had shed the attitude of a teenager, leaving in it's place an upright and serious adult. The transformation could be likened to that of a snake, shedding its skin...but no one could say that, because no one ever saw.

* * *

His feet dragged heavily against the straw mats that made up the sidewalks of Seiretei, his shoulders slumping slightly and his eyes glistening with sadness as he made his way to the 13th Division headquarters. Running a slender hand through his downy orange hair, Ichigo sighed heavily, not really knowing what to do anymore. His mind kept spinning around the contradicting actions and words of the frosty captain of the 10th Squad. _You would think after all of this time_…

He came to the bridge that divided the 11th and 13th Divisions, turning to look out over the groves of white and pink sakura trees, now in full bloom despite the frigid weather, resting his elbows on the cherry wood railing, a deep sigh escaping him. He hung his head slightly, his eyes drooping as he nibbled on his lower lip, his brain still twirling around as he tried to sort out where he was supposed to go from here. He didn't understand how, after all of this time that they had been together, Hitsugaya could still be as stone-faced and timid as he was in the very beginning.

It was true that to begin with, Hitsugaya's personality was a bit different from everyone else's, not to mention, ironic. While his physical appearance was that of a teenager, about seventeen: sweet and innocent, he acted like a grown, responsible adult; sometimes he even seemed more mature than some of his fellow captains who were adults themselves. Hitsugaya was someone who was wise far beyond his years, and he'd better face it; he wasn't exactly an open book. He could sometimes be extremely stern, and introverted, making those around him uncomfortable, and he rarely showed happiness; hell, he rarely showed much emotion at all; but when he did, Ichigo never missed it.

It was true that he loved that icy prodigy, willing to sacrifice his own life to protect him if need be. Toshirou had never really been one to show affection, always treating it as something that was a sign of weakness or dependency. Ichigo frowned deeply at the thoughts... Of course he'd noticed his boyfriend tense up with every hug and kiss; he'd have to be deaf, dumb and blind not to. But it was something that he had learned to overlook and push past the longer he had been with the icy captain. He couldn't decide if taking a break from their relationship to sort things out was the right thing to do or not…

Sighing deeply once more, he pushed himself off of the railing and continued his walk to the 13th Division. Maybe talking with Rukia about this would help clear some things up and get his mind right again. She always knew what to do…

* * *

As the younger Kuchiki stood from his seat at the quaint dining table; the meal having been a delicious combination of steaming pots of ramen, dumplings, and sashimi before the attendees, he made his way down the elaborately crafted hallways, exiting the entryway and plunging himself into the cold night air. Snow fell lightly around him, catching in his silver hair and settling on the shoulders of his black robes. The chilled air bit at his ears, leaving them burning and his breath swirled in front of him, creating clouds of moisture billowing away from him like smoke without a trace of nicotine.

The night was dark, but not unsettlingly so; and he wasn't sure if that was because of the small amount of alcohol warming in his stomach or just the sentimentality and anticipation at seeing his adopted sister for the first time in over a month. She had been away on a scouting mission as the new lieutenant of Squad 13, her first large-scale assignment since she had taken on her new duties.

It was nearly pitch black and far, far too cold for this time of year, he thought as he approached the 13th Division barracks, weak moonlight and pale snow beginning to settle over the archway as he passed through.

Once inside the division, he made his way quickly to the Headquarters, locating the lieutenant's office and knocking once curtly on the door. There was a moment of shuffling sounds and a sharp, "Coming!" before the door slammed open and he was greeted with the wide-eyed face of his adopted sister Rukia.

It was only a moment before lean arms threw themselves around his neck and a squeal of excitement met his ears, Rukia bouncing energetically, "Kuraime! How have you been? It's been so long since I've seen you!"

Keeping his stern expression, he shuffled them the rest of the way inside her office, sliding the door shut behind him. Only then did he allow his mask to drop, an amused smile pulling at the sides of his mouth, as he returned the hug with equal excitement, though with considerably less bouncing. "I am well, Rukia. And I see that you are too. How did the mission go?"

Her eyes nearly sparkled at the question before she began babbling on about all the details of her first real mission as a seated officer. Though Kuraime held very little interest in all of the finer aspects, he still listened intently, glad that he was finally reunited with his best friend, taking a seat on the purple couch beside her, as she continued her report.

* * *

As he reached the entryway to the squad barracks, he entered silently, hoping to not draw any unwanted attention from any of the 3rd seats. He didn't think he could take their prattling at the moment. The air was heavy and chilly, the breeze biting at his already cool skin, sending shivers up his spine as he came to stand before the Lieutenant's office, raising his hand to knock upon the sliding door. Before he allowed his hand the contact of the wood, he listened as he heard Rukia's voice speaking animatedly to someone within the office.

He wondered for a moment if maybe he should just leave and come back later, finding dinner and giving her enough time to conclude whatever meeting she was caught up in. As he turned to leave he was halted by the sound of another, deeper voice piercing through her speech, "Why, Rukia, I believe you have another guest standing outside. You should invite them in."

Ichigo stiffened slightly, for this was a male voice that he definitely didn't recognize. There was a shuffling sound before the door behind him slid open partially, and Rukia's gaze fell on him before the wooden slab was slammed open and arms were around his neck with a fierce speed, "Ichigo!"

He grunted at the impact, blinking rapidly at the sudden assault, before returning the embrace with considerably less gusto. Turning his head, he noticed the previous guest seated on the large couch across the room, studying him briefly. Now he was sure he had never met this man before: a man with skin the color of caramel and hair as silver as the precious metal, eyes the color of the ocean and a build very similar to his own.

Before Ichigo could open his mouth to inquire as the to identity of the man, the figure stood slowly, walking to the substitute and coming to stand beside Rukia. Ichigo could tell that he was a shinigami, for he wore the black robes and his zanpakuto was stashed at his right hip. _Oh, so he's left-handed. _The robes, though standard black, were accented with an ice blue sash at his waist, in the place of the normally white obi, and matching fingerless hand covers and sheer scarf around his neck that were similar to the ones that stoic captain Byakuya wore, knowing he must be important. _Heh, maybe they shop at the same store_.

The man's height came to Ichigo's own eye-level, making him approximately the same stature, maybe even a little shorter, though something about the way he held himself and the energy surrounding him made the man before him seem miles taller than himself. _Who is this guy…?_

Before Ichigo could think any further on the subject, the shinigami bowed his head slightly to him before capturing his own brandy-colored eyes in an intense gaze, "Pleasure meeting you, Ichigo. I am Kuraime, 3rd Seat for Squad 5. You should come in and join our conversation. Vice-Captain Kuchiki was just telling me the details of her first mission as a seated officer. I'm sure she would love it if you would listen as well."

Ichigo blinked for a moment before relaxing into the warm atmosphere. "Yeah, sure," he agreed with a small smile in acquiescence before taking a seat on the other end of the couch. Sure, there was something about this new presence that was ominously commanding, but also surprisingly unpretentious. Though he couldn't help but feel slightly wary of the man, there was also, surrounding the serious and rigid persona, a warm and highly approachable aura.

As Ichigo pretended to listen intently to Rukia's recollections, he couldn't help glancing at the new acquaintance occasionally, feeling in his gut that things were about to get rather interesting.

…_**TBC**_…


	3. Predator

AN: Yay, the plot takes off!

Rating: PG-13 – slight R

Warning: some yaoi – not-too-explicit action here, language

Characters in Chapter: Rukia, Ichigo, Kuraime

Current Song Stuck in Head: I Caught Fire – The Used

* * *

**Chapter Three**: Predator

* * *

As Rukia completed the longwinded and colorful report, she glanced casually at the clock before jolting slightly, jumping from her seat between the two shinigami and hurrying to her desk, shuffling papers and opening her inkwell. Ichigo looked at her with a highly puzzled expression, blinking a few times before inquiring, "Uh, Rukia…what's going on?"

Before the petite brunette could answer, the carrot top heard the deep rumble of quiet laughter from beside him, quirking a brow and turning his face to observe the still collected new acquaintence, "Uh…Kuraime?"

Clearing his throat, the 3rd Seat sighed and nodded softly, "It would seem that our vice-captain here has forgotten that she has paperwork due first thing tomorrow."

This earned the young Kuchiki a pointedly irritated look from Rukia, her tongue sticking out to mock him. "Humph…why don't you two go bother each other for a while," she said in faux anger before melting back to her usually complacent self, "Kuraime, you should take the brute to go get some dinner. His stomach has been growling all evening and he probably hasn't eaten anything today if I know him at all."

Ichigo opened his mouth to loudly protest, but the words died on his tongue as the voice beside him returned, "Of course. That is…if he will allow it?"

The carrot-top blinked for a moment before shrugging casually and sighing, "Well, I'd be stupid not to turn down free food, so I'll take you up on that offer."

And with that the two shinigami exited the building, all previous thoughts of his taxing day pushing to that back of Ichigo's mind as he steeled himself for a, hopefully, stress-free night.

* * *

The night found the young 3rd Seat and Substitute shinigami in one of the many ramen houses of Seiretei, the Kuchiki watching in amusement as the carrot-top shoveled the steaming noodles into his mouth like a starving man.

Taking a moment to sigh at the childlike antics of the college student, Kuraime reached out and grasped the small silver cup, taking a sip of his cooling saké. The tap of the wooden bowel on the tabletop signified the completion of Ichigo's meal and the commencement of the imbibing of his large cup of alcohol. The 3rd Seat couldn't help but frown slightly at the exaggerated serving of liquor that the young shinigami had ordered, "If I may inquire, why do you feel the need to order so much alcohol? Surely you don't require this much for a mere buzz."

Ichigo looked up at the words of curiosity and detected the hint of concern in those sparkling sapphire eyes. Kuraime could detect an underlying sadness behind the man's amber orbs, but decided it best not to question further. "It's just been a trying last few days. Nothing you need to worry about," he muttered, taking another swig of his beverage, "But anyway, enough about me. Tell me about you. I have told you about my family and about how I came to be a shinigami, but I know next to nothing about you. That's hardly fair."

Kuraime smiled warmly at him, but Ichigo could feel as if there was an iron cage around their conversation, something that truly unsettled him about this man, almost as if he wasn't allowing himself, for some reason or another, to speak too frankly. He watched as the silver-haired 3rd Seat breathed softly, as if gathering his thoughts and steeling himself for an unpleasant confession; this caused Ichigo's stomach to tighten subtly in anticipation. "Well, as Rukia stated earlier, I am the active 3rd Seat of Squad 5. What she didn't say is that I will soon be promoted to Captain of the 5th Division."

Ichigo interrupted him with a clap on the shoulder, shaking it slightly in congratulations, "Wow, that's awesome! You must be pretty good at what you do. Maybe you can talk some sense into some of those old coots in that organization."

Kuraime laughed softly at the comment, thanking the carrot-top with a soft smile as he continued, "Yes, it's quite an honor, and something that I have been working towards for quite a few decades. I actually wasn't expecting to receive recognition so soon, but it is, of course, something I am very grateful for."

As Ichigo listened to the future captain continue, he couldn't help but notice some things that were off with him; like, the fact that his smile didn't quite reach his eyes, and the way that his voice, though confident and controlled, held an almost imperceptible amount of anxiety. It was true that Kuraime's body seemed relaxed and his words were natural and unrehearsed, but Ichigo still couldn't shake the feeling that he was being lied to, even if not completely so.

Deciding that the conversation was only causing more weight to land on their impromptu meeting, the carrot-top grabbed his cup and downed the rest of the burning liquid in one gulp, sighing at the delicious sting as it cascaded down his throat and settled in his belly. He met the other's eyes, as they blinked at him in confusion, asking silent questions and warring internally with some unspoken thoughts. "So, what's really going on in that silver-head of yours?" Ichigo inquired, courage wrought from alcohol streaming through his veins, eyes staring intensely into the sapphire orbs before him, "Because something tells me that you aren't really as happy as you say you are…"

He watched as the smaller Shinigami's eyes widened slightly at the rash words and hard gaze fixed upon him. Feeling almost like a cornered animal, it took double the self-control to reign in the small amount of panic that threatened to slip into his eyes. If there was one thing that Kuraime hated more than anything it was being cornered, losing his freedom to breathe and speak as he saw fit. Nothing frightened him more than having his control taken from him, no matter how small and insignificant that control may be. He fought fiercely with himself, battling to contain the anxiety that clawed at his insides from such an innocent question from a mere acquaintance.

As Ichigo's glass was refilled, the question was merely forgotten, much to Kuraime's relief. But his relaxed buzz was soon interrupted as he glanced over at the drinking young man, noticing something that hadn't been there before. Raking his eyes over the tension in the younger Shinigami's shoulders and the twitch in his fingers along the rim of his now half empty glass, he glanced at his own drink, still warm and sweet before him. Without a second thought, he pushed it demandingly over to the orange-haired shinigami, "Drink," he said sharply, "You seem to be troubled with something, and you are going to tell me what it is. You are going to drink until you can talk it out and get it off of your shoulders."

Ichigo's bleary amber eyes, so sad in the faded light of the bar, met his own in an unspoken plea. "It's okay. Just let it out. Keeping stuff like that in is never good for anyone. I don't really know you, so I can I judge you?"

Ichigo nodded softly, letting out a sigh, a deep sigh, long and tired, full of surrender and defeat, because he was just so sick of pretending everything was all right, when it very much wasn't. And he gave in. _Fuck it, I'm drunk…or close…or some – whatever_…

The room was just the right amount of blurred, and candles on the wall flickered and swayed along with the fans on the ceiling, despite the harsh cold outside. Yeah…this is what he needed: dulled nerves and complete attention from someone that wouldn't call him an asshole and shove him out the door, so much better than wallowing in his own self pity alone. Yes, this was better, so much better. The only thing that could be better was total unconsciousness, but it might be rude to sleep in a public place, so he just kept drinking, allowing his thoughts to be overcome with a synthetic relaxation as the alcohol flowed and the silver-haired shinigami sat attentively before him.

Taking another deep swig of saké he chased it down with brandy, for he needed to be plastered to the wall if he was going to be able to go into any of this shit. No way could he have conscious awareness of his surroundings, otherwise he would never talk, never fucking get it out of his system, never be able to stop the awful feeling of wanting to be devoured by a nest of rabid hollows. Doing this drunk was going to be sooo much easier, as his brain was buzzed and fuzzy, he didn't have to sort out his thoughts or be scared of feeling ashamed and babbling nonsensically, because it was better than thinking any more at this point of his agony.

"He's a shinigami, you probably know him…we worked together on several missions," he slung his head back to finish off another glass, "we were, y'know, seeing each other for a while…almost two years if you wanna get technical."

Kuraime nodded, not really all that surprised to hear that the carrot-top in front of him was of the male persuasion, but mildly wondering just who he had been seeing, "So, how did it all get messed up?"

Ichigo stilled at the question, staring at the booze in his cup, swirling it slightly. When had it all fucked itself up? He was pretty sure it was when Toshirou had begun to show less interest in his life and more interest in the growing mounds of paperwork that littered his desk constantly. But, looking at the whole situation through drunken eyes, he was pretty sure that it had been fucked up from the very beginning. As much as he had grown to love the smaller man, it probably never should have happened at all.

This really didn't make him feel any better though, and he kept staring into the container of liquid in his hands, waiting for the answers to fall into the swirling brandy so that he could drink them up and have the knowledge required to handle the situation properly. All of a sudden, Ichigo wanted to leave.

His buzz wasn't going how he wanted; he was still thinking and feeling way too much. He was feeling _more_, in fact, than he had sober, walking into this joint with the silver-haired shinigami, and he didn't want this total stranger chastising him, telling him "you are a really big idiot," like he was some weepy little kid, when he already felt so guilty. And that was scarier to him than any danger he had faced. "Whatever. I've got nothin' better to do, and I would never want to waste good liquor, attractive company, and my last few nights before finals."

Kuraime blinked a few times, wondering if Ichigo had meant to slip that second comment in there, or if it was the alcohol loosening his lips and dissolving his inhibitions. If the latter was correct, then the boy was a total lightweight, drunk on only a cup and a half of brandy.

After an hour and a half, plus another round of saké and one long relationship history later, Ichigo and Kuraime sat in relative silence. The bar was still full of patrons, and the music pumped through the room, making the substitute's chest rattle and his head throb slightly. Ichigo wasn't drowning himself in the alcohol anymore, because he was a little worried that illness or death was right around the corner from his current state. He could hardly fucking sit up straight, and after a while he quit trying, and simply sprawled out on the bar top, his hair slightly damp from sweat and exhaustion.

Kuraime was in better shape, considerably more upright and sober than the carrot-top. He'd been quiet all through Ichigo's long tale, and the substitute merely sat there waiting for curses and insults which, after having to relive all the bullshit a second time, didn't seem like such a bad thing anymore. Kuraime would probably say something like, "You are such a jackass," or "Dear Kami, you are such a dumbass," or even, "How did you ever manage keep him as long as you did?" Then the smaller man took a deep breath. Yes, here came the onslaught of terror.

"You're a stronger man than I," Ichigo's eyes snapped to the hooded blue ones, "I don't think I would have lasted half as long in such a one-sided affair."

There was a pause in Ichigo's breathing then, as the music faded away, the people disappeared, and his heart all but halted for a split second. He was pretty sure this had to be a drunken hallucination, for no one was ever on his side. That was just crazy.

As he was about to open his mouth in protest, he was cut off by the hand of the man before him, raised him a silencing motion, "No, you've done enough arguing with yourself for tonight. I'm not about to let you start arguing with me as well. Come on, you can stay at my quarters tonight. I don't think you're fit to travel the Senkai gates as drunk as you are."

And with that he rose and dragged the other man to his feet, pulling them silently to the Kuchiki mansion. And the funniest thing was that Ichigo was far to intoxicated to even notice where they were heading, otherwise he surely would have refused the offer.

* * *

As they entered the immaculate quarters of the young Kuchiki, both thoroughly soaked with saké and stumbling carelessly about the room, Kuraime carefully, hands skilled with years of self-control and proper practice, unwrapped the silk scarf from his neck, hanging it respectfully on its designated hook on the wall, checking to make sure the lamp was lit, though the wick ran very low. As he made a mental note to replenish its supply, he began to silently remove the hand covers, taking the moment to glance over at the substitute shinigami and noticed something that made shivers run down his spine. The man was staring at him again. He could feel the drunken intensity of the brash young adult bearing into his profile as he finished removing the accessories. As to _why – _well, that was an entirely different matter.

He watched through his own fuzzy haze as the orange-haired shinigami made his way back over to the doorway, stumbling slightly as he did, his mind already thick with the liquor. Kuraime watched with mild amusement as Ichigo attempted to stay upright while toeing off his sandals, which he had forgotten to remove in his intoxicated state.

That was when the first mistake had been made, a truly innocent accident, but a mistake of epic proportions nonetheless.

Ichigo had reached for the wall, meaning to place his hand against it for support. But, he had clearly misjudged the distance, his hand hovering momentarily a good six inches from the thick marble and sending him falling to his right, his body twisting as he fell, face first, into the unsuspecting 3rd Seat.

As Kuraime's back hit the wall, the air was knocked from his lungs, the substitute Shinigami's hands slamming into his shoulders and his body stumbling awkwardly against his own. Ichigo blinked a few times, confused by the sudden change in position, fighting against the alcohol to gain some semblance of coherent thought. That was when it dawned on him how close they were, pressed together into the wall. The carrot-top could smell the subtle mixture of lavender, yakisoba, and strong green tea coming from the other man and became aware that he and Kuraime were pressed flush against each other. The more he tried to push away the thought that he was in between the future captain's legs, the more it consumed his thoughts and ravaged his mind, coalescing with the confusion of why they were still in this same vulnerable position a full five minutes later.

Wasn't this wrong? Was he supposed to be between those lean thighs, pressed against the tight body, his fingers fisted in those thick black robes? Was it really okay to be so close to his lips…?

Ichigo could feel the muscles in the others' thighs tensing against the realization, but still made no attempt to move from the current position. He swallowed harshly and released his tight grip on his partner's robes, pressing his palms firmly against the smaller man's chest, the rhythm of the racing heartbeat beneath his hand causing him to blush for a totally different reason than intoxication.

He slowly raised his hazy amber eyes to the same level as those oceanic jewels across from him, those brilliant blue eyes staring back at him with a mixture of confusion and uncertainty, his breathing heavy between parted lips that were at once so many times more irresistible than they had previously been in the restaurant.

And even though something felt so inexplicably dangerous about this moment, Ichigo was at a loss for rational thought as he leaned his head forward gently, cautiously brushing the slighter man's lower lip, pulling back slowly to gauge his reaction. Hesitating; no response, good or bad, he leaned in again, parting his lips and pressing his mouth to the other man's more firmly this time. To his utter amazement, the young Kuchiki kissed back, though cautiously and almost shyly.

The substitute slid his tongue gently across the 3rd Seat's bottom lip, asking him to open his mouth wider and was filled with a wave of arousal when he obliged, allowing Ichigo to slip his tongue inside and gently stroke across his own.

As the kiss deepened Ichigo was sure that his chest was going to explode, his pulse loud and hard; a cadent throbbing that begged his body to commence into a different kind of pulsing rhythm. He pushed his hand up over Kuraime's chest until his fingers made contact with the tender, warm nape of his neck. Those digits stroked upwards, finding themselves in the future captain's soft, silver-curtained hair, crushing his mouth more tightly against his own, drinking him in like a man dying of thirst in the desert who had found his oasis.

With both of his hands on Ichigo's hips, Kuraime's urges became overwhelmingly strong; his brain giving up and diverting all focus to raw, animalistic needs. It was unbearable, as he slid his hands down over robe-covered hips, gripping tightly and pressing his growing erection against the other man's groin. The sensation of Ichigo's hard member against his own, separated only by a few layers of clothing, was almost enough to push him over the edge. It had been too long since he had felt the touch of another…

He ground his hips into the carrot-top's, making slow circular movements that forced the man before him to let out soft gasps of need, but never breaking their lips from one another's. Finally, Kuraime gave up his self-control and gave in to the moment, sliding his hands up Ichigo's sides, caressing his body through his black robes, pushing at his shoulders and tugging at the cumbersome fabric in a feverish attempt to divest him. That was when he froze, his body tensing and a strangled whimper escaping into the other's mouth as Ichigo's palm pressed its heel aggressively against the now rigid bulge in the front of Kuraime's robes, his member tight and begging for attention.

That was when the lamp lighting the elaborate room burned out, leaving only the few accent candles to bathe the bedroom in a faint, golden glow. In the darkness everything: every feeling and emotion was intensified. Every sensation became clearer and touches more aching. Ichigo was enraptured by the other man's shuddering breaths, the fingers tightening on his robes, and the waves of lust as he ran his hand along the outline of Kuraime's growing length.

As his eyes adjusted to the dimness, he was able to make out the silhouette of the 3rd Seat's neck and jaw line and he began tracing his tongue up the slender throat, showering kisses just under his jaw.

It was true that as the rain began to fall, pattering softly on the windowpanes and the thunder began to rumble angrily around the two men, a testament to ridiculously fickle weather in Soul Society, something felt horribly wrong and taboo-laden about this encounter, but both of the shinigami knew that they were now long past the point of no return.

…_**TBC**_…


	4. Purity

AN: Herein lies the first lemon. If you have been reading this story, oblivious to the rating and warnings, then it is your own fault if you are offended. So, don't you dare flag me. If you don't want to read it, you may skip this chapter, but really... It's a short chapter, but I think you'll like it. Enjoy!

Rating: R/MA

Warning: Strong sexual content, language

Characters in Chapter: Toshirou, Ichigo, Kuraime

Current Song Stuck in Head: Labios Compartidos - Mana

* * *

**Chapter Four**: Purity

* * *

He was looking through the silent window at the violent weather, feeling somehow that it was raining more indoors, and reflecting the raging storm that brewed within his own heart. He traced the outlines of the stained coffee cup that sat before him, barely touched, unwanted, and forgotten; the longer he sat, the more he tried to fool himself that he was growing accustomed to the ominous weight that rested so heavily on his shoulders.

This feeling he was experiencing was not going to just go away, the regret he endured as he twisted his thin fingertips over the rim of the ceramic cup that still held a fair amount of the rich black liquid. But he wouldn't tell him the truth…he couldn't. He'd never know what to say if the carrot-top asked him how he felt, or how he was, or even what he could do to make anything better between them. But that was okay, because Ichigo probably wasn't going to ask anytime soon anyway, if their last meeting was any indication.

Sometimes Hitsugaya wished Ichigo would open that door, yank him to his feet, and demand to know what the problem was, why the silence had deepened and the happiness had diminished. He had tried to convince himself he was a closed door without anything worth opening for...but everyone else seemed to disagree. He knew, as he picked up his quill to begin an all-night paperwork session, that something felt strangely eerie about this night.

* * *

The air was thick with their inebriation, nearly suffocating as the two shinigami fell haphazardly on the lavender sheets, breath emitted in sharp puffs as they struggled to free themselves from the confines of their black robes, which were beginning to feel immensely more constricting then before. Finally, skin pressed against hot skin, and lips crashed together for the…they had lost count of how many times their lips had meshed that night.

Ichigo's hands threaded through the silky silver hair of the 3rd Seat, who's hands were currently occupied with raking his fingers down the hard abdominal muscles in front of him, moans slipping into his mouth from the sensitive substitute, not used to such unchecked and uninhibited petting from his partner, his body trembling like a virgin. He gasped loudly against the tan shoulder as those wandering hands found purchase in the wrapping of those lithe fingers around the orange-haired Shinigami's throbbing length, "Ahh…" he breathed sharply, "You don't waste any time, do you?"

His answer came in the form of a swift tug on the hardened flesh, evoking a low moan from the brash carrot-top, his lips smashing against the others' impatiently, demanding more. Kuraime, even through his alcohol-induced fervor, managed to rasp out a fairly crucial question, "T-top or bottom…?"

Ichigo's eyes widened slightly through his hazy vision, his voice slurred and unsure, "I've never been a bottom before. I-I wouldn't know –"

Kuraime's eyes darkened slightly, his breath ragged and shallow, "Do you think you're drunk enough to try?"

Ichigo couldn't help but respond in a way that was terribly unfitting to the situation, laughing lightly…which soon turned into an unbearable fit of giggles quickly transitioning into hysterics as the alcohol thoroughly soaked his mind, so much that he almost didn't notice the slippery fingers pressing slowly against his tight ring of muscles, his legs pushed roughly apart as the young Kuchiki took full advantage of the nearly deranged laughter of the drunk substitute shinigami, sighing in irritation at the scenario.

The laughter became mixed with grunts of tension and slight discomfort as long fingers penetrated the limp body on the bed. There was something to be said about drunk 'first times', and that was that it definitely made the preparations easier, relaxing the body and distracting the mind.

The muscles gave way around him, and Ichigo's breath was a now very shaky, but he pushed back into the touch, adjusting to it. Kuraime scissored his fingers ever so slightly and the carrot-top made a soft noise, leaning his forehead against his fist, braced on the caramel shoulder beside the 3rd Seat's head. Ichigo's breath tickled at the future captain's ear, drawing a shudder from him, and Kuraime knew the vibration shimmered through him into the lean body beneath when he received another of those quiet and hungry little sounds.

He crooked his fingers rhythmically, strong but lean hands of a swordsman working the young mortal loose. He pulled out and, spreading the fingers, and pressed back in, rewarded as Ichigo grunted beside his ear once more and rocked forward against the touch.

They were growing impatient, touches more forceful, each unbidden noise slightly more desperate than the last, but it still took Kuraime by surprise when Ichigo licked at his ear and croaked deeply, "_Enough_."

Kuraime let his fingers slide free, angling and scissoring them as he did, and he heard Ichigo's breath burning at the shell of his ear, moist and far too hot. The flushed skin at his neck where a wet tongue had been only moments before felt cold and exposed in the damp air, and Kuraime couldn't stop the shivers dancing up and down his spine, couldn't keep his shoulders from trembling. The 3rd Seat's teeth sunk into the junction between Ichigo's neck and shoulder, as the redhead tried not to cry out, not to show he was loving this in all the most wrong and taboo-laden ways.

The grip of the future captain's hand on the substitute's member started to move, achingly slowly, allowing him to adjust, yet not giving him time to breath, and he'd been frustratingly suffocating in the waves of sensation. Kuraime's pulse roared in his ears, heart thundering in his chest, yet he refused to speed his hand up or acquiesce to the demanding substitute's words.

Ichigo couldn't help the way his hips were rolling, pushing forward into Kuraime's tight grip, grinding back against the lean hand, whimpering, almost inaudibly, constant and desperate, as Kuraime's nose pressed into his fiery hair, and those lips seared at his neck.

"You need to relax and be quiet," the 3rd Seat whispered hoarsely into his ear, struggling to remain in control despite his stoic exterior.

Ichigo managed to nod weakly, heavily drunk and intoxicated on both alcohol and sensation. He was so lost in the feelings that coursed through him that he wasn't aware of the shift in the 3rd Seat's position until it was too late.

Ichigo's eyes snapped open, and the surprised noise that threatened to spill out was muffled under Kuraime's fierce kiss, lips insistent over the redhead's own, tongue instantly demanding entrance as the future captain of the 5th Division snapped his hips forward, entering the younger shinigami in one fluid motion.

Hands squeezing into the tan shoulders above him forcefully, and feeling a chill spike up his spine, the college student felt his blood burning inside of him, vision bleached and wavering, and even Kuraime's tongue licking at his own wasn't quite enough to quiet the desperate noise that Ichigo couldn't keep from escaping him as his hips thrust upon Kuraime's rigid length. He couldn't see through his drunkenness and the thickening darkness what the young Kuchiki was doing, but he could definitely feel it…every burning, aching, throbbing stroke of it.

Sliding out momentarily, Kuraime thrust himself back in, feeling Ichigo push down on him at the same time, legs wrapped almost wantonly around his caramel waist.

When the 3rd Seat seemed to hit a particularly satisfying spot inside of him, his mind filled with stars and all thoughts were lost. Moaning deeply, he started to gain a rhythm with the Kuchiki as their bodies rocked together, so close to breaking already.

All too soon it seemed, and with no warning at all, the Kuchiki's seed spilled into Ichigo like an explosion. The pure effect of it all sent lights shooting into his vision and he barely heard his own gasped moan over Ichigo's explosive cry.

The contact, rough and determined, was more than enough to unravel the last of Ichigo's own control. The carrot-top cried out, curling forward to stifle himself in the curve of Kuraime's shoulder, nails digging hard into that tan back, long legs twisting, tangling with the Kuchiki's as the younger man came.

The substitute felt his own essence spill over his stomach, relief washing over him like a tidal wave. But, more than that, he felt Kuraime empty himself deep inside him and he, truly, felt like he was floating. The moment was _amazing_.

Then the 3rd Seat smiled, the warmth of the glowing candlelight reflected in his shaded sapphire eyes, and the red-head felt the caramel, lithe body relax above him. Knees falling away to either side, a heavy, satisfied sigh easing between faintly swollen lips, and Ichigo was totally spent.

Neither moved for several minutes, staying curled together, catching their breath and enjoying each other's warmth, blinking their drunk and tired eyes to find their bearings. But sleep was more malicious than that, tugging at the threads of their weak consciousness and jerking them into a relaxed slumber, tangled up in each other, a sticky mess, for dreamless sleep.

…_**TBC**_…


	5. Prohibition

Rating: PG-13

Warning: language, adult content

Characters in chapter: Ichigo, Kuraime

Current song stuck in head: Raining on Sunday – Keith Urban

* * *

**Chapter Five**: Prohibition

* * *

He awoke to the greeting of a blinding, though narrow, stream of sunlight that squeezed through a tiny gap in the grey gossamer curtains, billowing gently in the icy morning breeze, the cold air nipping at his already rippling flesh.

He pulled the lavender sheets up over his fiery orange bed-head, burying his face in the silken pillow top, a shiver running down his spine as the wind blew sharply through the room for the second time upon his waking.

He rolled to his left, stretching his lean limbs from their slumber, when his shoulder collided with another warm body, "What the…?"

The other body stirred gently in its sleep, turning over and flopping its right arm across Ichigo's firm chest, the lean petite fingers resting limply against the tight flesh, sending shivers down the redhead's spine.

The memories of the previous night, though few and hazy, came flooding back: the copious amounts of alcohol they had drained, the accidental embrace that led to the clumsy and unexpected kiss, and ultimately the blur that was their heated and impetuous passion.

He smiled softly at the memory…then his stomach dropped – his mind was spinning in circles again at the recollection of his sober thoughts, trying to figure out why he had allowed himself to do something so careless. This was supposed to have been merely a conversation and drunken stupor that made the problems go away for a little while…not a midnight tryst in someone else's bed.

How had he allowed himself to do this…?

Then it hit him like a lead weight, skull-splitting pain tearing through his cranial cavity. As he clutched at his throbbing temples, he breathed a heavy sigh through gritted teeth, his eyes squeezed shut and his body curled into the fetal position, pulling the sheets back over his face, "How much did I fucking drink…?" he murmured under his breath through strained lips.

As he willed his body to unclench, he received a much-unanticipated reply, reminding him quickly that he was not alone or free of guilt, "I'd venture to say around three bottles of saké and quite a few brandy chasers."

The words were barely a whisper, meant to avoid causing further pain for the substitute shinigami, "You don't drink very often, do you?"

The question had a reverse-effect, causing Ichigo to tense even more. He let out a low growl at the undeniable truth. In all honesty, this was only the second time he had ingested more than on beer, and the first time that he had actually been inebriated to the point of unconsciousness, though he chose not to answer the loaded question. "Ugh, where the hell am I?"

He received a grunt in reply, "My room, dumbass, It's nice to know it was that good for you too. My name is Kuraime in case you forgot that as well…" was the answer, laced with a hint of sarcasm and mirth.

Ichigo flopped a pathetic smack towards the silver-haired shinigami, only succeeding in having his hand lazily brushed away by said 3rd Seat. Pulling the offending limb back, Ichigo ran a hand down his face, sticky with sweat, alcohol, and God knows what else.

Turning over onto his side, his back to the smaller man, he sighed and snuggled back into the pillows, "You picked a really bad time to show your twisted sense of humor…"

Kuraime merely snickered softy and rolled himself against the substitute, wrapping a lithe arm around that taut waist, sliding his fingers over the rigid abdominal muscles and drawing circles teasingly on his ribs. Ichigo's peaceful stillness was interrupted as those long fingers drew lower, scraping harshly against his sharply pointed hipbones, teasing and irritating him simultaneously.

"Hey…don't you have some 'exam' or something that you are supposed to be studying for?" came the fluid voice of the smaller man behind him, fingers flicking over his upper thighs teasingly.

Ichigo's eyes shot open, his upper body flying off of the mattress into a sitting position, the offending arm falling across his lap as the man beside him rose slowly, nipping at Ichigo's earlobe, contradicting his prompt to return to normal life. Ichigo carelessly shoved him off, jumping to his feet and scurrying about the room, collecting his previously abandoned clothing, "Shit, shit, shit…" he muttered under his breath.

Kuraime watched on in amusement, grabbing his black robe top from the floor beside the bed, wrapping it around his body and holding it securely closed with his left hand.

As Ichigo continued to dress and collect, his mind began to drift to the memories of the previous day, combing over his thoughts carefully, his hangover still violently painful. As his mind passed over the night, he felt a shiver run down his spine, resting in the pit of his stomach… _how careless_.

But the lethal realization was the resting of his thoughts upon one particular memory from yesterday…one not-so-pleasant thought, in fact. _Oh. __**Fuck**_.

Visions of Hitsugaya filled his mind, panic coursing through his body, a cold sweat settling over his skin as he could feel his heart hammering out of his chest. Suddenly, he felt incredibly and undeniably _dirty_.

All at once he could feel the inexplicable pain of the sin he had committed against the man that he loved, cutting into his soul like a dull blade that didn't have the decency to be sharp and finish him off quickly.

But, also bubbling in the pit of his gut, he could feel the beginnings of a tangible anger brewing.

He rounded quickly on the now fully dressed shinigami behind him, though bare of the scarf and hand-covers. His eyes bore into the sapphire orbs with an obviously betrayed expression present and simmering behind his own amber gaze. He could almost see the shoulders of the smaller shinigami sink slightly, as if he recognized that look and was ready to fire off his excuses.

Kuraime heaved a moderately loud sigh, straightening his obi tie, "I know what you are going to say, and before you do that I would like to remind you that it was _yourself_ that initiated this whole scenario. True, I should have stopped you, but it's been a long time for me, and I apologize for not having more self-control."

He walked over to the trembling substitute, straightening his obi and unfolding the sleeves of his robes, "I will not, however, lie and say that I didn't enjoy it immensely. It was the best night that I have had in several years."

Ichigo arched a brow disbelievingly at this, "Really? I find that sort of hard to grasp, being that you have so much going for you right now."

Kuraime laughed ruefully, a hollow smile appearing on his features, "Well, who knows…I guess it's the simple pleasures I take the most appreciation of. I'm sorry to have intruded on your personal life."

Then Kuraime turned away and retreated to the bed, tugging the sheets off of the mattress and crumpling them into a pile on the floor for laundering, erasing any evidence of the previous night's activities. Ichigo watched as the silver-haired shinigami tossed the sheets into a hamper, placing them at the door as he sighed heavily, shoulders slumping slightly with some emotional weight.

"What's wrong?" Ichigo asked, wondering what he had gotten himself into and how he was going to explain his way out of this one.

Kuraime froze at the low tone of the carrot-top's voice, a cold seeping into his nerves and rendering him immobile. He remained silent for a moment, trying to find his voice as the stark realization of just how careless he had allowed himself to be filtered through the façade of afterglow, washing over him like a bitter taste. "Don't worry…" he stated, barely over a whisper, "I didn't fall in love with you."

Ichigo's eyes widened, a relief washing through him at the prospect that had never even occurred to him, feeling very much like he had dodged an extremely large bullet. He relaxed slightly, walking a few paces to the now silent 3rd Seat.

He rested a hand lightly on the stiff shoulder, squeezing gently, "That's good…because, no offense, but I don't think that I could have handled that. You understand…?"

Kuraime nodded subtly, a sad smile twitching at the corner of his mouth, "Yeah…I know that your heart is already taken. It would have been foolish of me to expect anything from you. I really didn't mean for this to happen…I guess I – ah, never mind."

Ichigo's curiosity peaked at the abrupt chop at the end of his statement, the loose ends of the words teetering in the wind. "Kuraime…what were you going to say? Is there more to this that you aren't telling me…?"

Kuraime shook his head viciously, shaking Ichigo's hand from his shoulder and turning away from the door, walking swiftly toward the bathroom. He was merely a few steps from the door when a strong, callused hand gripped his narrow wrist tightly, pulling him back and crashing the back of his shoulders to that broad, tight chest.

"Don't lie to me. I don't like being lied to. Now I'm going to give you another chance to tell me what you were going to say. If you don't comply, then I won't press any further. I think you would do better to choose the former though, because I don't think that you really want to keep this all inside, do you?"

Kuraime stiffened in his grip, "What does it matter to you? You don't owe me anything…"

Ichigo's eyes widened, a realization sinking into his brain about what this situation might have to do with. Fisting his hand in the silk scarf around the smaller form's neck, he asked, carefully, "Kuraime…what aren't you telling me?"

A soft sigh escaped the 3rd Seat, a hand coming up over the one clutching his scarf, prying the fingers gently from it, "Trust me, you don't want to know. If I told you, then you might see me differently…and I don't want that. Just leave it."

It was Ichigo's turn to stiffen at the frighteningly cryptic words, his brain working overtime to figure out the subtle riddle behind the silver-haired Shinigami's warning. He let his hand drop to his side, taking a step back from the stoic figure before him, watching as the future captain adopted a strangely familiar stone-face, and he couldn't help but wonder where he had seen that look before.

Breathing a sigh of defeat, Ichigo ran a hand through his messy hair, "Fine…I get it. You have some secret or something that you don't want me to know about. I can respect that…seeing as it isn't really my place to intrude on the skeletons in your closet, just because I managed to end up in your bed for a night. But…can we at least stay friends?"

Kuraime's eyes widened incredibly, his body turning very slowly to face the man speaking, disbelief flooding him as the words sunk in.

"A-are you serious? Even after all of this, you still want to be around me? I just complicated your life. You're going to have to tell the man you are in love with that you pretty much cheated on him with a fellow shinigami. Look, I don't know who your lover is – and I am probably better off not knowing, for propriety's sake – but I don't know anyone that would be unfazed by that bit of knowledge."

Ichigo's amber eyes fell to the floor at the reminder, sighing to himself at the thought that he was going to have to figure out how to break the news to his icy dragon at some point if he ever wanted to continue having an honest relationship. Even if they hadn't been –technically – together at the time, that didn't excuse the fact that he had just broken an unspoken vow that they had made to commit and give themselves only to the other.

This was going to be a painful (emotionally – and probably physically as well) endeavor for the carrot-top and nothing was going to help him escape from that unavoidable fact.

But this was his fault and he had no right to blame this on the smaller man standing before him, obviously in shock that he wasn't being rejected and left in the cold. This little detail sparked a new curiosity in the substitute shinigami, causing him to wonder why exactly… "Kuraime, why did you think I was just going to walk away?"

He quirked a brow when he noticed that the addressed stiffened subconsciously at the words, tipping him off to a terrifying theory forming in his mind, "Hey…this hasn't happened to you before – has it?"

The words that left the 3rd Seat's mouth next were enough to sober the substitute shinigami from any amount of leftover alcohol that may have been in his system, swimming around elusively and playing at the edges of his mind, spoken softly, and almost regretfully.

"Maybe once or twice…but I've learned to live with it. You get used to it and learn how to prepare for it. Some people just want you for the novelty of being with someone important; others just want a quick fix. It's not something to mourn over, so don't go feeling sorry for me."

Kuraime's words cut him to the bone, sending chills up his spine and a deep sympathy that caused the carrot-top to step over to him and grab his hands swiftly, clasping them between both of his larger ones, "Kuraime! I am **not** like them. I would never do that to someone, whether I am his or her best friend or a complete stranger, sober or drunk off my ass – it's just _wrong_. No one should have to go through that feeling of being used. It's just…"

His words were silenced by Kuraime's free hand, his fingertips gently pressing against the parted lips of the carrot-top. "It's fine. I get it; you aren't like that. That means a lot to me. Thank you. Now…I think you should be getting back to wherever you came from. It seems you have a lot of soul searching to do. So get going."

And with that, he pulled his hands away and walked toward that bathroom to freshen up, leaving the substitute shinigami to decide his next move.

Ichigo sighed softly, turning over his shoulder and walking toward the bedroom door, sliding the panel open and taking one step into the hallway. "Oh, Ichigo. By the way…"

Ichigo's head turned quickly at the lighter voice of the 3rd Seat, eyebrows quirked in anticipation. "Yes, I would love to be your friend."

And as quickly as he had spoken, he retreated into the bathroom, closing the door tightly behind him.

Ichigo couldn't help the soft smile that peeled across his features as he exited the room and made his way down the elaborate hallway, taking no note of his surroundings as he made for the entryway, his thoughts too clouded with the most recent updates in events.

In fact, he was so distracted by his wide array of thoughts that he failed to notice the most important detail about the setting: a dark and silent figure at the end of the hallway, watching in the shadows as the carrot-top left his baby brother's room and walked obliviously out of the Kuchiki mansion.

…_**TBC**_…


	6. Predicament

Rating: PG-13

Warning: Language, violence

Characters in Chapter: Ichigo, Kuraime, Byakuya, Toshirou, and a cameo of Matsumoto

AN: Okay, you'll have to forgive me for my tardiness in posting this as well as any editing errors I may have missed. I have been in and out of the hospital for the last week, everyone in my family is sick, and it's Christmas to boot. Thank you for being patient, and enjoy.

Current Song Stuck in Head: If It Kills Me – Jason Mraz

* * *

**Chapter Six**: Predicament

* * *

This was the worst kind of hell that he had ever been in, and he couldn't think of anything short of death that could be worse – and that was quickly appearing debatable.

For five long, never-ending, what-vengeful-god-had-he-pissed-off-this-time, minutes…Ichigo was absolutely petrified.

He was a step away from probably losing everything that he held dearest to him…forever; and that was a terrifying notion.

Guilt flooded every vein and hollow space of his body, permeating to the very core of his being and filling him with that deep sense of dread, as a man marked for death walking toward the noose.

He had screwed up majorly this time, and he didn't think that any amount of begging, seducing, or joking around was going to spare him from heartbreak. The captain was most likely going to leave him for good.

He took a deep breath. Death was also a fairly strong possibility. He shuddered at the thought, but also realized that, yes; he had completely fucked this one up.

He had screwed it all up and now he was going to pay for it. He clenched his fists and tried to take another deep breath.

It didn't matter that he loved him more than anything, or that he needed him, just to keep his sanity. He was going to lose him forever.

He didn't like this one bit, but he really had no room to even begin to protest whatever decision the icy captain may come to.

As he made his way silently to the 10th Division office, he couldn't help but let the dread and misery flow through him, equipped painfully with the lasting dregs of an intense hangover.

_Maybe it wasn't meant to be after all..._

* * *

The steam hung thickly in the air, wafting in billowing clouds from above the glass doors of the marble shower, heat wrapping copiously around the lithe figure beneath the scalding spray.

Kuraime had never been one to take long showers, for he wasn't the biggest fan of water, normally avoiding it like the plague; but even he had a firm grasp on personal hygiene.

Rinsing the soapy lather from his tan skin, he couldn't help but reflect on his hectic life's most recent event.

There was something about this Ichigo Kurosaki that made something inside of him twist in just the wrong way. He couldn't quit pinpoint what it was, but there was definitely an energy about him that left the future captain with more questions than he had started with.

The carrot-top was definitely a force to be reckoned with, all raw power and honest disposition. There was rich smoothness in his voice and smothering intensity in his deep amber eyes that spoke volumes more than any words could hope to do justice.

Something about this shinigami seemed so seasoned, yet so naïve as well. It was as if he had seen the best and worst there was to see in all their worlds, yet nothing was ever able to touch him to the point of blemish.

He figured that with a drunken encounter under their belt, that he would somehow feel dirty and used upon the morning…but on the contrary –

Turning the water off at the valve, Kuraime reached for the white towel that he had laid over the top of the door, frowning slightly when he grabbed nothing but cool air mixed with warm steam.

Pausing for a moment, his frown deepened, so sure that he had placed that towel there before entering the spray, wondering what might have happened to it.

"Looking for this…?"

The silky, yet commanding voice reached his ears, sending a shiver down his spine as he exited the bath and turned to the intruder.

As they locked eyes, azure meeting steel, something flipped inside of the younger shinigami, twisting into a stinging sensation if discomfort and nerves.

"Brother…what brings you here this morning?"

He tried to speak as levelly and calmly as possible, hoping that the older Kuchiki didn't catch on to the fear hidden behind his words – the carefully placed inquiry. _Did he know…?_

Watching the captain glance coolly at him through the corner of his steel grey eyes, Kuraime clutched the towel between him lean fingers, letting it slide from the pale hand before him. Unfolding the soft fabric that smelled of lavender, he began to dry the droplets of clear fluid running down his caramel flesh.

The velvety words reached his ears, sending a tremor through him, "I just happened to wander by and notice a certain orange-haired substitute shinigami exiting your quarters and making for the exit. I merely came to inquire as to his reasons for entering the premises…"

Those lines caused the younger shinigami to tense visibly, a sigh escaping his lips as a really uncomfortable feeling passed through him that they were due for an extremely awkward conversation…

* * *

He didn't know when he had dozed off, and he probably wouldn't even call it that; for it was more like a hazy, dull, partially conscious state of quiet.

Regardless of the terminology of whatever state of consciousness he may have been in, tentative and sharp knocking at the doorframe crudely interrupted it.

Mumbling incoherently to himself for a moment, he ran through all the possible visitors in his muddled mind – ruling out his Vice Captain quickly, for knocking wasn't an action that the buxom strawberry-blonde was familiar with in the least.

Nope, it was definitely a visitor, and not a regular one by the timidity of the knocking sound. There was a chance that is was his 3rd Seat, Shiloh, since she was pretty skittish and shy by nature, but if she was looking for Rangiku, which she usually was, then she would probably have knocked a little more forcefully, knowing that the voluptuous woman was normally passed out on the sofa following a night of revelry that lasted a few hours too long to walk away unscathed.

Whoever it was probably knew that he was also in there, signing his workaholic little ass off, so it wouldn't be someone like Vice Captain Abarai or Kuchiki at this early of an hour, for they would have announced themselves immediately upon arrival.

And since the only person that ever needed to see him was Captain Ukitake…well, that wasn't any more incentive to open that damned door.

All this he had managed to deduce by the time he walked across the office and made it to the sturdy sliding door, hooking his fingers into the grooves and pushing it open slowly, simultaneously stating, "If you are here to see Vice Captain Matsumoto, I suggest you come ba –"

His voice broke and disappeared at the sight that greeted his pale, teal eyes, widening in surprise at the identity of the caller.

"H-Hi Toshirou…"

The soft and extremely uncertain voice chimed in at that moment, and Hitsugaya's dry and curt dismissal died on his lips when he realized that the person at the door was quite possibly the last person he had expected to encounter on this frigid afternoon.

"G-Good afternoon, Ichigo Kurosaki."

The icy captain blinked slightly at the fiery-haired shinigami, feeling confused and extremely off-canter about this whole situation. That was when he noticed that there was a difference in the man before him, a tenseness and a tremble in his voice, "What's wrong…?"

The young man in front of him seemed exceedingly nervous and his amber eyes darted around the office like wildfire, his hands thrust awkwardly into the pockets of his hakama pants.

"Umm…I'm okay," he replied with a fake cheerfulness that made the captain in front of him want to roll his eyes.

_Lies_…_what the hell is going on_?

Hitsugaya studied the younger man for a few moments, leveling out the situation in his head. He had no idea what had brought this man back to his door when he was supposedly at his home in Karakura Town, studying for his finals later that week.

He knew the man well enough to know that he had never openly lied to him about anything, especially his emotions. Ichigo was always the first to come out and address any issue or problem that he thought they were encountering, whether the Captain was aware of it or not. So to know that at that moment Ichigo was lying through his teeth, was almost painful and insulting to the smaller male.

Toshirou had no interest in playing this game.

"So, what brings you here, Ichigo?" he inquired in a cool, but suspicious voice, "You know that I have a lot of work to do at this time of day and that I won't be done for another three hours or so…and don't you have exams to be studying for?"

Ichigo stared down at him, trying very hard to feign innocence and still managing to look ridiculously guilty.

Clearly he was hiding something, and either Ichigo had suddenly become the most transparent and idiotic person in all of Soul Society – which Toshirou was inclined to agree with – or…and this was the slightly more intriguing of the two choices – Ichigo was hiding something that he didn't really _want_ to hide, but found himself unable to be the one responsible for broaching the subject…whatever it might be.

The icy captain's cold, teal eyes narrowed significantly. He was _really_ not in the mood for this shit right now.

"Spit it out, Ichigo. I know you didn't just come here to look all naïve and stand around my office while I worked."

Those hesitant and frightened eyes blinked down at him as a look of defeat crossed briefly over the carrot-top's sharp features. Straight white teeth bit down on a swollen pink bottom lip as the college student finally showed a pained and troubled countenance. His gaze shifted to the ground as those hard turquoise eyes stared him down, watching him.

"Ichigo, if you want to say something look me in the eyes. I don't like it when people look down past me and I have to talk to the tops of their heads. Now sit down and start talking."

He noticed the man before him gulp deeply before taking a stiff seat on the couch in front of his desk, hands fumbling with each other as nerves began to take over.

As Toshirou took a seat opposite him, Ichigo's eyes met his, scared and terribly uncomfortable with whatever it was that he needed to say.

Once again, those honey-colored eyes started dancing around the room, and it was pretty obvious to the Captain that the Kurosaki boy was absolutely terrified about something.

"Ichigo…?" he asked softly, feeling a pang of concern for the carrot-top, his hand coming up to wrap firmly around the substitute's strong wrist in an uncharacteristic display of support, "Tell me what's wrong."

Ichigo closed his eyes tightly, taking a deep breath for good measure as he dug his fingers into the knees of his black pants, "I-I…did something stupid."

Okay, now Hitsugaya's brain had officially crashed and burned, the smell of the smoke from it probably seeping out of his ears at this point.

There was no righteous explanation that could compensate for the fact that this idiot had just said everything true and nothing new at the same time. So Ichigo was openly admitting to his everyday notoriety…that was impossible – which could only mean that he had done something extremely heinous for him to feel this shaken up about it.

_Joy_…

"Okay…" spoke the smaller man, coughing to clear his throat in an awkward fashion, struggling not to shift around in his seat and attempting to not sound too heartless, "Now, don't take this the wrong way, but you are aware that everyone knows that already, aren't you? Every time you are here you manage to break something or enrage someone somehow. It isn't, you know, breaking news or anything…"

Ichigo's gaze found his lap once more, hands fisting into the black fabric with more force, "I didn't do anything to disturb the peace this time, though…"

Oh, right. That made perfect sense… except that it didn't!

Now, Hitsugaya may not have been well educated in the matters of humans, or matters of figuring them out, but what little he did know tended to point to 'doing something stupid' as 'disturbing the peace' in the end. How exactly were these separate matters at this point? And why in the name of all things holy did Ichigo feel it was necessary to approach _him_ on the matter?

Toshirou was the _last_ person that would get him out of trouble at this point.

"Umm…you're going to have to be more forward about this, Ichigo. I don't seem to follow."

A sigh was his answer, fists going slack and rubbing sweaty palms along the curves of his knees. "I, uh…think you deserve to know…since, you know, it has to do with you."

How in the blue _hell_ was Hitsugaya supposed to take that kind of comment? Really, it just confused him even more…but he wondered whether he should bother to…

"Uh…okay," Toshirou found his usually articulate manner of speaking to have fled him in the face of this conversation, "Would you care to…elaborate on that?"

He watched as Ichigo's face frowned in some form of self-contempt at the words posed to him, his eyes squeezing shut against the feeling of shame that coursed through him. He felt the hand tighten around his wrist, "Come on, Ichigo…it can't be that bad?"

"Yes it can!" came the loud outburst of protest from the substitute, "Kami, what am I supposed to do? What do I do? I have ruined everything! Dear God…"

With that last statement spat to the afternoon, the carrot-top dissolved into hard, wet sobs, hands covering his face from the scrutinizing glare of the tendo.

That was when horror flooded the Captain of the 10th Division. Ichigo wasn't someone that just randomly started crying…

He could feel a pang deep inside his chest that the man he loved was hurting so much, but what was he to do? A large part of him wanted to slap the other shinigami back to his senses, the crying scaring him beyond his normal range of concern.

He was losing his edge…yes, definitely losing his edge.

Damn that man for making him go so soft, and yes, he was screwed for it. He had succumbed to a fate that involved him caring far too much about the man in front of him to the point of outright feeling _bad_ for him when he was upset, _worrying_ about him and _sympathizing_ with him even.

"Ichigo…" he spoke softly, "Things can't be ruined. Trust me, I would know about it by now if they were."

"No, Toshirou…you don't understand," was the desperate reply from the broken shinigami, "I've messed everything up! We aren't going to be able to be together anymore…you probably won't even want to see me. Nothing is going to be the same ever again!"

Hitsugaya's left eyebrow started to tick, a vein forming in the top of his aforementioned temple at the cryptic speech of the substitute that was skirting around a much deeper subject. Complex calculations began to run through the tendo's mind.

_Okay…he either killed someone – which I would have heard about by now…stole or broke something that is very precious to me – which I _also_ would have known about by now…or he video taped us having sex and someone got a hold of it – which he will be dead in a matter of moments if I find that to be true_…

He aimed a very intense and very warning glare at the carrot-top, fixing his gaze on those amber eyes that spoke volumes. Part of him felt bad that he was jerking some deep-rooted confession out of the man, but the majority of him was pretty well convinced that however bad what he had to say was, it would only get worse the longer he brooded on it and the longer that he, the object of concern, had to question it.

"Ichigo, I swear if you don't tell me in the next ten seconds what the _hell_ is going on, I'm going to –"

"I cheated on you."

Time froze and everything came to a screeching halt around the two shinigami. Hitsugaya could almost feel the slurping sound of his brain draining out of his ears as he struggled to wrap his mind around the words that Ichigo had just blurted out.

"C-come again?"

A sigh greeted him as the substitute began to tremble slightly, no doubt ready to cower before the Captain, "I-I cheated on you…last night."

The room was so utterly silent that the only sound Toshirou could make out was, indeed, the sound of his brain imploding on itself and beginning to ooze in the general direction of his ear canals. Not in any facet of the tendo's brain did this make even a modicum of sense.

There was a moment of heavy silence as the words settled and understanding finally sunk in, the tension in the room suddenly becoming palpable, a hum of electrical energy causing Ichigo's hackles to rise as the captain's spiritual pressure began to rise rather rapidly.

"Ichigo…if this some kind of sick joke then you can take it elsewhere, because I am in absolutely no mood for such immaturity –"

"I-I'm not joking…I would never joke about…I'm sorry."

Heavy, unforgiving silence returned, thicker and more dangerous than the last. Ichigo thought it would never end and they would be stuck here in this idle game of waiting forever, until…

"Who was it?"

Ichigo was startled so badly that he couldn't even process the question before it was asked again.

"Who did you have sex with, Ichigo?"

Hitsugaya's brain didn't know how much more trauma it could take before he reached his threshold and went certifiably insane. He began mentally checking off names of both men and women shinigami that could have been the victim or predator in Ichigo's little sin, but couldn't really find anyone that he deemed stupid enough to incite his wrath.

Unless they didn't know.

At this thought, Toshirou's brain honed in on one name – one name that he prayed would not fall from those trembling lips before him; one name that he hoped to whatever god there was out there that hadn't stumbled across his boyfriend on the way to a bar or the 6th division…

"H-his name…"

Oh, so it was a guy. This was not looking to be in Toshirou's favor for any amount of hopeful thinking.

"K-Kuraime?"

Hitsugaya's heart had officially stopped beating. Not that it made much sense for it to be beating in the first place, but now…now all of his worst fears had been confirmed, and that was…

Unacceptable.

"How in the _hell_ did you end up in bed with a Kuchiki?!"

It was Ichigo's turn to be confused, his eyes blinking in a strangely erratic pattern as his brain began dancing in circles, "What? What are you talking about?"

Toshirou's hands clenched into fists, rage filling him slowly and agonizingly, "You had sex with someone and you didn't even know their surname? I thought you had better sense than that, but seeing this whole scenario…that is obviously untrue."

Ichigo's face reddened deeply now, pink trailing from his cheeks to his ears and down his neck. "Are you telling me that Kuraime is a Kuchiki?"

Toshirou gave a stiff nod, a glare settling on his features, "I'm surprised you didn't notice it right away, given the attire and stoic presence. He's the baby brother of Byakuya Kuchiki himself. You should be praying that he doesn't find out you let his baby brother fuck you."

_Okay_, Ichigo thought as he paled, _he must be pretty pissed. He never curses unless he is pissed._

"Where, pray tell, did you run into this egotistical asshole? A bar? 6th Division barracks?"

Ichigo sighed, "He was visiting Rukia when I went to see her. I didn't know…you know him?"

Ah, Hitsugaya had forgotten that Rukia had been promoted to Vice-Captain. That would explain why he had been there. "Yes, now tell me what happened…now."

As Ichigo relayed the entire night to his seething boyfriend, he could see the man visibly tensing at certain parts. His heart clenched at the more obscene details, but he knew they had to be covered. When he had finished, Hitsugaya stood from his position beside him on the sofa, and made his way to his desk, a tiny bit of relief flooding through him that Ichigo had not willfully cheated on him while in his right mind. Kuraime would pay for getting lover drunk and depressed before fucking him...he was not the person who needed to be touching Hitsugaya's things, and he would find that out soon enough.

"Go home, Ichigo. I'll take care of this. He's due for a good reprimand and ass-kicking anyway."

Ichigo's eyes flared at his boyfriend, fists clenching protectively for the man he had only met last night, wondering just how well the two knew each other, deciding that it must not have been a good acquaintanceship.

"What is it about him, Toshirou?! Did he wrong you somehow other than this? You seem more concerned that I fucked up with him than the fact that I fucked up at all!"

"That shouldn't be any of your concern anymore, Kurosaki. You are dismissed."

"What happened to being honest with each other, _Hitsugaya_?"

"That contract became null and void when you decided to let someone else stick their cock inside of you. I _said_ you are dismissed!"

Ichigo paled at the venomous words, his heart dropping in his chest as he fisted his hands at his sides. He knew in his heart that he had no right to be arguing with the captain about honesty.

As his shoulders began to sink in an imminent acceptance of defeat, his gaze snapped to the smaller shinigami, watching with horrified curiosity as he reached for his zanpakutou, strapping it snugly and securely in it's place at his back. Ichigo's eyes widened as he realized that the icy captain was beginning to leave.

"T-Toshirou…where are you going?"

He was met with a cool glare, icy teal eyes sliding dangerously toward his own, "I don't see how that is any of your concern, Ichigo Kurosaki."

His name was muttered with such venom; as if it was a curse, and the smaller man slid the door quickly open, only to come face to face with his Vice-Captain, in all her temporarily sober glory.

"Oh, good afternoon –"

"That won't be necessary, Matsumoto. If you would kindly show Kurosaki to the exit – I have some…_personal_ business to take care of."

...**TBC**...


	7. Permeability

Rating: PG-13

Warning: Language, references to adult situations

Characters in Chapter: Toshirou, Kuraime, Byakuya

Current Song Stuck in Head: The Garden – Mirah

* * *

**Chapter Seven**: Permeability

* * *

As he placed the baby-blue scarf in its assigned place at his throat, he could feel those silver eyes following every motion, bearing into the back of his neck as that thin fabric wrapped effortlessly into position.

The wind that blew into the room was chilled and frosty, stinging lightly at his caramel cheeks as he finally turned to face the Head of the Kuchiki clan, his eyes filled with pleas and his shoulders stiff with tension.

"So," Byakuya began in his professional tone of nobility, taking a seat on the edge of the freshly made bed, "you are telling me that you met the Kurosaki boy yesterday evening on your visit to the 13th Division Vice-Captain's office and proceeded to take him out to the nearest ramen house where you succeeded in thoroughly soaking the both of you in alcohol. From there you returned here for the night and managed to fall into a liquor induced coma, waking this morning with no recollection of what transpired between your arrival and waking?"

Kuraime prayed that the mental blush didn't reach his cheeks as he nodded vigorously, eyes never leaving the face of his stiff elder brother. Said shinigami captain seemed to study his features for a moment, searching his azure eyes before sliding his own closed and bowing his head slightly with a sigh.

"You know, Kuraime," he said softly, all pretense and formality aside, "even if it had been a convincing story, which it wasn't…"

The addressed 3rd Seat visibly flinched as the 6th Division captain called out his falsity.

"…Whenever your gaze refuses to reach my own, focusing instead on the patch of flesh between my eyes, I can tell, beyond a shadow of doubt, that you are not telling me the whole truth."

The silver-haired shinigami sighed in defeat, his shoulders slumping only slightly at the honest words of his closest friend and family – the one who knew him even better than he knew himself. "Bya…"

A deceptively slender hand and wrist, decorated in ice-blue cloth, rose to silence any protest or excuse; instead, it beckoned the younger Kuchiki to take a seat beside him on the mattress.

As Kuraime slowly stepped over to the bed, sitting carefully and cautiously beside his elder brother, he couldn't stop the guilt and fear that flooded his mind, feeling as if he was backed into a wall and surrounded by several bloodthirsty hollows.

Though, to his shock and utter surprise, he found himself wrapped in warm, comforting arms, his face pressed into a narrow shoulder clothed in fine silk and the soft material of a white haori. He couldn't hold back the small gasp that escaped his lips, eyes widening in awe at the very rare display of affection from his usually conservative and upright brother.

"Do you remember the last time I held you like this, Kuraime?" were the soft words wafted across his ear.

He felt himself relax, nodding softly into the welcoming shoulder, an unbidden emotion seeping into his vision, "Yes," he breathed, "It was when _he_ left me and told me never to return to his quarters again. It was the day that I lost the one I held dearest to me…all over a foolish misunderstanding and a few disapproving elders."

Unwanted memories filled his mind – thoughts of a time where he could have said that he was truly happy with his destiny as a shinigami – a period with someone who saw him as more than just a quick lay and a pretty face. He could feel tears stinging at the corners of his eyes, fighting to hold them back as a giant lump formed in the thick of his throat, visions of an old love - now long dead - flashing before his mind's eye.

He didn't know why it all still affected him so much. It had been five years, for god's sake! He had been with so many other men _and_ women since that time…and still.

Still, something was missing in his heart, and he knew that it was something that couldn't be replaced by walking on eggshells and sleeping around.

Kuraime shut his sapphire eyes as a lean hand came up to run soothing fingers through his silver hair, massaging gentle circles against his scalp. As stiff and refined as the Head of the Kuchiki clan was, the 3rd Seat knew he was capable of unmeasured gentleness. There was a core of care and compassion that was centered inside of this stoic captain, and Kuraime felt a surge of pride at the knowledge that he was the only one who got to experience it.

"Kuraime, whatever you did with the Kurosaki boy in the privacy of your own quarters is no business of mine. I just want to warn you that you are treading on some fairly thin ice…in the literal sense. I just want you to prepare yourself for what might come back to haunt you."

The 3rd Seat tensed at the cryptic words that were an obvious harbinger of dismal things to come. "W-what do you mean, Bya?"

There was a tangible tension hanging over the two figures, and Byakuya couldn't stop that small sigh that left his lips, his arms tightening around the slightly small shinigami.

"I mean that Ichigo is a fairly untouchable. He belongs to someone else, and that someone will not be amused to find that you have touched something that is rightfully his own."

Kuraime frowned slightly, his brows furrowing into a deep crease, "What do you mean, he _belongs_ to someone? I thought he said…"

He froze, his eyes widening in a heavy realization as he pulled back slightly, his brother's hands coming to rest on the now trembling 3rd Seat's knees as the boy visibly groped for something to say.

"H-he said…that they were having problems –that they were taking a break. He said something about is lover being cold and stoic, not letting him in or telling him how he felt…I knew it was wrong to do what I did, to allow him to…but I didn't think…"

Suddenly, something that his brother had said struck home in his brain, a cold feeling sinking into his body like an icy breeze. "Bya…when you said that I was treading on thin ice…what exactly did you mean?"

Those now warm slate eyes stared back at him, filled with sympathy for him, "I meant that dragons don't often react calmly when their territory is trod upon by potential threats."

Suddenly, as if on some diabolical cue, the air inside the mansion became thin and frigid, an actual frost picking up as they exhaled.

Kuraime stiffened, going rigid at the tingling of his nerves as he sensed an overbearing, but hauntingly familiar spiritual pressure leaking into his quarters and slithering toward his body like hundreds of tiny, invisible ice-ropes.

"Oh _fuck_!" he managed to whisper breathlessly, just in time to whip his head toward the door, as it slammed open, an icy wind of spirit energy blowing violently into his face, making him close his eyes at the ferocity of it.

* * *

He could feel the icy blue energy roiling off of himself like mist as he stood in the doorway, piercing teal eyes locking onto the two figures on the bed. The sounds of servants and maids bustling in the hallway at the sudden commotion that had entered the premises could be barely distinguished under the roar of the unearthly pressure.

Eyes dangerously flashing to the smaller figure of the two, the pressure continued to skyrocket, filling the room with a punishing weight that threatened to suffocate the 3rd Seat that now rose to his feet shakily. This was not something he ever wanted to be doing again…

This place was like a bottomless cavern of reverie – memories that he wished he could forget. Staring intensely ahead, Toshirou could feel his hands balling into fists at the tension that was surging through him. He hadn't been this angry in Kami knows how long, and it was not something that he was accustomed to.

Reining his spiritual pressure in slightly, he locked eyes with the elder of the Kuchiki's who still managed to remain completely unaffected through the intrusion. Within those eyes, hard as steel, he saw both concern and apology, hidden beneath the veil of pride and stoicism. Because he knew this man…as so few truly did.

He knew that this captain was not some stone-cold, heartless shinigami. He also knew that, like all people, he had weaknesses and a softer side, no matter how rigid and emotionless he appeared to the rest of the world.

Searching those slate-grey orbs, he could make out the subtlest acknowledgement and acceptance, and was spared shock, as the captain rose from his seat, wrapping the younger Kuchiki in a tight embrace, "Do not shame yourself in this battle…I'll be waiting in my office when this is all said and done."

As the raven-haired Kuchiki made his way for the door, he paused a breath away from the icy 10th Division Captain, turning his head slightly to meet his teal gaze through the corner of his right eye, "Remember where you are, Captain Hitsugaya. Though I have no doubt in your abilities, I do hope I shall not have to arrange for repairs to the manor this late in the year…nor do I fancy the idea of being short a brother. We will speak later on this matter."

As the noble exited the bedroom, Toshirou could feel his anger hardening into a chilling form of contempt and resentment, relaxing his fists enough for his fingertips to brush the thick yet soft fabric of his white captain's haori, rippling gently in the breeze of retracting spiritual energy. Lifting his eyes from their gaze upon the pristine flooring, his pupils dilated slight as they locked onto the only remaining figure in the room. He froze like the power that he held.

The man was so different than he remembered him…He had been but a scrawny, Q-tip haired young adult, trying to make a name for himself and just bring someone to accept him for who he was. But now, only five years later, in his immaculate robes, and with his now light-silver hair laying smoothly against his shoulders, he looked every inch a man. Beneath those robes and silks, Toshirou knew that there were strong and defined muscles that had not been there before – those eyes now held a different kind of sorrow that he had seen that day…

Shaking his head free of the waves of unwelcome emotion and reminiscence, he locked his eyes onto the azure stare that studied him in much the same manner as he had been. And Hitsugaya couldn't blame the 3rd Seat, for he knew that he had changed considerably as well, growing into his own skin and filling out nicely in the half-decade that had passed. But his was beside the point…for he was not there for some heartfelt reunion of reminiscence and reverie – some empty and meaningless camaraderie that could never be.

This was a defense against at predator – a trespasser on tightly-possessed territory – not some play date with old _friends_…

"If you value your position in this society, I suggest that you meet me in the next half-hour at the practice dojo behind the 6th Division Headquarters. We have a few things to _discuss_…"

And those words were the only indication of mercy that the captain chose to display, turning swiftly on his heel and heading to the designated location in a whirl of fabric and tightly wound spiritual pressure, leaving the other shinigami to stare at the empty spot in shock and confusion.

_Well, this is quite possibly the worst thing that could have happened_…


	8. Puncture

Rating: PG-13

Warning: Language, Violence

Characters in Chapter: Kuraime, Toshirou, Byakuya, Ichigo, Rangiku

Current Song Stuck in Head: Rewrite – Asian Kung-Fu Generation

* * *

**Chapter Eight**: Puncture

* * *

All he could do was stand there in a terrified shock, as the door remained open, letting the cold inside, behind the busty strawberry blonde beside him.

He could do nothing but stare for several long minutes at the tatami flooring, not even hearing the words that the Vice-Captain had been speaking to him in the last few minutes.

"Please, Rangiku…just stop for a minute."

Silence ensued, a tension as thick as a fog drifted over the two shinigami, the air suddenly heavier than it had been a few moments before. Ichigo braced his palm on the wall beside the door; his head dipping low to suck in a deep, painful breath to calm himself.

His mind was swimming with the realization of what had just occurred, coupled with the confusion at everything that he didn't understand. _Why did he treat me as lightly as he did about it? I expected death on a platter_…

After what was probably a good half-hour of uncomfortable silence between the Vice-Captain and substitute, the carrot-top could feel a small breeze of air blow past his hair as another figure entered the now silent room, not even needing to turn his head to see the man's identity.

"What do you need, Byakuya…? I'm kind of in the middle of an early life crisis here, and I would really appreciate it if you didn't try to make me feel even more inferior than I already do."

But the stoic captain was silent, drifting noiselessly across the room to stand beside the buxom Vice-Captain, meeting her eyes with a look of admission. Realization dawned on her face, but she remained silent as she trod lightly over to the carrot-top, resting a hand gently upon his shoulder to rouse him from his thoughts.

"Ichigo…he's not here to make you feel worse. We both know what's going on and, believe it or not, we understand what's happening better than you do."

Ichigo's shoulders tensed at the confession, his head lifting slowly off of his straightened elbow, "You…w-what?"

Rangiku slid her eyes shut as a wave of regret swept through her, her brow furrowing as realization set in that her Captain had probably never spoken of Kuraime to the young substitute. _Well, I guess the secret is soon to be out anyway_…

"You don't know, huh? He never told you?"

Ichigo blinked for a moment, as if he didn't understand the question, but soon shook his head and frowned lightly anyway.

The buxom red-head sighed, taking a seat on the couch, "You may want to sit down for this one. It's a long story…and I think Captain Kuchiki can tell it even better than I. He was there for all of the drama, whereas I was merely around indirectly for the majority...His brother is much more open about the circumstances as they were – Captain Hitsugaya has rarely even humored the memory, preferring to act as if it never happened."

The substitute sat slowly and carefully on the cushions, his eyes narrowing at the two shinigami in front of him. He nodded curtly, beckoning the dark-haired captain to begin, watching as he took his own seat on the spare armchair across from the sofa, wondering just how deeply his lover's secrets ran. Instead, to his surprise, the vice-captain beside him began the long requiem.

"They trained together, several decades back, at the Kuchiki dojo. Every seated officer and newly appointed Captain was required to spend at least a decade training against and with one another…just standard procedure. Captain Hitsugaya had just received his captaincy, and he was…well, for many years he was Kuraime's nemesis."

Ichigo's frown deepened at the statement, feeling rather confused as to where this was leading, "Nemesis…?"

A nod was directed his way from the Kuchiki head, "It was Kuraime's goal to out-spar and overcome Captain Hitsugaya, because in his young and simple mind, Hitsugaya was the best. That translated, to my brother, as 'If I beat him, then I am the best."

Ichigo turned his head slightly to the direction of the silky voice, "He never beat him though, did he?"

"Nope," was the distanced voice of Matsumoto as she shuffled through the sake stores, pulling out a bottle of plum alcohol.

Closing his eyes softly to calm his adrenaline, Ichigo pressed onward, "So, what happened then? They met at the dojo, Toshirou kicked his ass a few thousand times, they probably tried to kill each other at some point…how did they become friends?"

Matsumoto returned to the sofa with a few glasses and the newly procured bottle of sake, setting them on the coffee table and pouring the liquid carefully, with practiced ease, as Byakuya spoke, "They were never friends."

"Huh?" Ichigo drawled stupidly, his mouth slackening in confusion and disbelief.

Passing the cups gently to the appropriate spots on the table, Rangiku sighed softly and continued, "They were never friends. They hated each other from the very start, the moment they laid eyes on one another."

Ichigo shook his head slightly, trying to understand what he could be missing here. "Excuse me? Are you telling me that the reason my boyfriend is so pissed about this is because he has some old schoolboy grudge against your brother? That doesn't seem his style…"

Rangiku sighed once more, taking a swig from her cup, "This is very difficult to explain. Their relationship was never simple," she said, slouching slightly in her seat and letting the cup rest on her taut abdomen, fingering the rim.

"They fought about everything," Byakuya began slowly, "They were always challenging one another, about the most uncouth and unnecessary things. They'd call each other names and try to make each other's lives fairly difficult, just for sport."

Ichigo scoffed softly at the statement, reaching for his own glass, prohibition promise be damned.

"They never agreed on a single thing," Rangiku muttered softly before speaking up once more, "They never _wanted_ to agree on anything, either. At first, they even made a conscious effort to take opposing sides to each other's arguments, just to piss each other off. They just…hated each other; none of us know why, to this very day. Conflict of interests, maybe? Who knows..."

The substitute could feel his frown deepening as he tried to grasp everything that was being said, but refused to comment this early and with this little information. He shifted his weight on the sofa and took another drink from his glass of clear liquid.

"But then there were their real fights…"

The carrot-top's head snapped to the speaker, the deep baritone of the Kuchiki drawing his complete attention once more, "Real fights?"

Byakuya nodded silently, "Indeed, their actual spars – they were always incredible to witness. It was as if they wanted to kill each other all day, heading to the sparring room to blow off some steam. They would see each other, and suddenly become excited. It was like they knew they could fight one another – really let loose like they couldn't with anyone else."

"They would be at each other's throats every moment they were together outside of that room," the Vice-Captain interrupted, refilling her cup, "but the instant they grasped those kendo sticks…they were on some alien plane of existence, as if they were thinking and feeling the exact same things. It was the closest they could ever get to understanding one another."

Ichigo was suddenly silent, soaking in the conversation's new direction. He could understand exactly what they were saying, but still chose not to comment. He sat quietly, listening to the tapping of Rangiku's nails along the curve of her cup, choking back a million questions at once. He could feel the tension growing in the small room, "Byakuya…"

The noble turned slowly to meet his sad, amber eyes, seeing the younger Shinigami's hands beginning to tremble as he set his now empty glass back on the table, awaiting the other's question.

"How did it change? I mean, what happened that…made things so messed up – like they are right now? Something had to have happened between them…"

He could hear yet another heavy sigh from beside him, slowly turning to face the Vice-Captain, her light-blue gaze heavy with memory as she refilled the Kuchiki's glass, "Are you sure you'll be okay if we tell you, Ichigo?

The younger shinigami rubbed his temples gently with his hands, "I just…want to understand."

The Kuchiki nodded slowly, taking a small sip of the fluid in his cup, "Do you want me to skim over the details or do you want the complete story?"

It was Ichigo's turn to sigh as his shoulders sunk subtly, "Just…tell me everything. I need to hear it," he met the noble's steel gaze, "I need to understand…"

* * *

Pain ripped through his stomach like a blade, not quite as piercing, but definitely as handicapping. Kuraime grunted, disoriented for only a second, before rolling out of the way, quick on his feet to better defend himself from the captain, lest he take another hit in the same location.

A swift kick disengaged his brain for a moment, making him blink a few times to rid himself of the stars in his eyes, and then he was on his feet again, eyes bearing down on his enemy, sensing out their position, _ready_ for the fight…and then he got kicked in the jaw.

He was kicked hard – as in "back-flat-on-the-dirty-ground" hard. _Dammit, I think that one fractured something_, Kuraime thought, gently rubbing his face that he could tell was quickly bruising.

Rapidly approaching footsteps cornered him, barely giving him time to rise from his position and block a powerful leg from slamming down onto his chest. He leapt into a crouch, forearm up and already blocking the sandaled foot that swooped in low for another quick hit.

Skin and straw collided violently, jarring him slightly, and the 3rd Seat allowed himself a moment of surprise at just how tough the captain had become before surging forward and connecting his fist harshly with a chiseled jaw.

Hitsugaya was flung through the air and landed crouched tensely on his feet, swearing violently, slower to rise from it than Kuraime had been.

The 3rd Seat wasted no time, on his feet in a heartbeat, pouncing on Hitsugaya and wrestling him to the ground, landing another block on his shoulder to wind him. As he looked down at the face of his attacker, he was met with a wide-eyed stare; quickly blushing at the position he was in. Straddling the icy warrior, he was breathless for a moment, and sighed softly to himself.

_We can't keep this up.._.

That's what he thought anyway; right before he was sent flipping over himself by powerful legs that he'd been stupid enough to forget about. Back slamming on the dirt hard enough to knock the air out of him, Kuraime choked slightly. This fight was nowhere near as easy as it should have been. He was getting weak…his memories were clouding his battle skills.

It was only moments before another well-placed kick came slamming for his head. A split second before the hit could crash into him, he rolled to the left, dodging the powerful leg. Now, he figured, was a good time to defend himself and start fighting seriously, even though they had never agreed to turn this into a swordfight.

Spinning to the right, he quickly swept his left hand to the hilt of his blade, unsheathing it with lightning speed to block the next kick that came his way. The look on the captain's face was almost priceless. His eyes widened slightly and his lips parted in a silent gasp, obviously surprised at the gall he had to draw his blade on his opponent.

* * *

Byakuya began the story softly, drinking another small gulp of the alcohol; "They only hated one another in the very beginning."

The rest of the room faded away as Ichigo honed in on the sound of the noble's voice.

"As they spent more time together, getting to know one another's strengths and weaknesses, they began to notice little things about the other that were so alike that it frightened them."

Clasping his hands together gently, he breathed a soft breath of admission, "Now, I can only speak for my brother on this, but he started to see Captain Hitsugaya as someone that he could relate to on a new level. He started to think about him more and more, away from the training room, wanting secretly to become better friends with him, even though they still managed to fight about anything and everything possible. This frustrated him that he couldn't understand what he was feeling and that he could never manage to keep his wits about him long enough to talk civilly with Captain Hitsugaya about the situation."

Rangiku snorted softly, "Not that my Captain would have listened anyway…"

Byakuya nodded slowly, "Yes, you are probably correct. There was a mission quickly approaching. It was dangerous, located far away, and for a long period of time. It was something that Kuraime desperately wanted to attend, but only Captain and Vice-Captain-class shinigami were allowed to go."

"So Toshirou was assigned and Kuraime wasn't…" Ichigo whispered softly.

Rangiku nodded as she took a drink, "Yeah, so my Captain dropped out. He was professional about it, but never really gave a good reason as to his refusal."

Ichigo's brows raised at the news, blinking quickly at the uncharacteristic actions of his icy boyfriend, "Huh?"

The velvety voice of the 6th Division Captain continued without pause, "There was a meeting of all the dojo members one night, for social purposes, and Kuraime was talking to Vice-Captain Hinamori, rest her soul, and – in all of her meek attempts at consoling my brother – she managed to blurt out that Captain Hitsugaya had decided not to attend."

Ichigo shook his head curtly, "What?"

Rangiku laughed wryly beside him, "That's what _I_ said, and when I asked what she meant, Hinamori merely stated, 'well, because you couldn't go, of course, Kuraime'. I nearly choked in my disbelief at her ignorant words. She seemed very, well, sure of her statement. So, I decided that it was best to leave, because I didn't want to be around when it finally sunk into Kuraime's skull, so I slipped out to a different group and tried to forget about it."

"He must have flipped the hell out," Ichigo muttered under his breath.

"Yes, he did, indeed," Byakuya cut back in, "He figured out exactly what she had meant and became so angry that I thought he was going to stroke right there in the meeting hall."

"Gah, you did?" Ichigo breathed.

The noble nodded briskly, "I expected him to tear across the hall kicking and screaming, demanding an explanation and trying to assassinate the 10th Division Captain…but he didn't. He was very quiet, standing there with his hands fisted by his sides, and I have only seen him like that one other time…"

Rangiku jumped back into the conversation, saving the noble any pain from the memory, "He merely walked over to my Captain and shoved him sharply toward the door. Sensing a fight, I shuffled nearly everyone out of the hall, rain-checking the meeting to the following night, before returning to watch the show unfold."

She paused for a moment to take another long drink, "He didn't seem to notice my presence as they began to argue. Kuraime told my Captain that he had heard that he had dropped his position on the mission because he felt sorry for him, that he had been trying to not make him feel bad. He completely lost it and began to scream and threaten Captain Hitsugaya with very colorful language and furious gestures, on the verge of physical violence."

Ichigo lost his breath, thinking of how much his boyfriend could anger at being yelled at or attacked verbally, "So…then what happened?"

"Well…" Rangiku breathed, "After that, they just left, going their separate ways. They began to avoid each other like they had some virus, and my Captain backed off because he didn't want to anger him further and give himself an excuse to punch the young Kuchiki out. They stayed apart; making sure that the other wasn't going to be present before accepting any invitation anywhere. They changed their schedules at the dojo so they didn't have to run into each other training and risk an all-out bloodbath. It was very intense."

She sighed sadly this time, tossing one of her arms over the back of the couch, "I'm sorry, but I can't tell you what Hitsugaya was going through, because he never really gave me any details. He said that I wouldn't understand anyway…but Captain Kuchiki can tell you exactly what Kuraime was going through."

Ichigo leaned in subtly, his elbows resting on his bent knees as he breathed deeply, "Okay. Will you tell me?"

Byakuya looked him in the eyes, holding his gaze for several moments, before finally speaking, "That three weeks where they didn't interact at all, my brother started to feel stoved-up. He clearly missed their sparring matches and he began going to the dojo at odd times, as if he was hoping that Captain Hitsugaya would be there, waiting for a good fight. But he never was, of course."

The noble paused to take another sip, his hands coming to rest lightly on his knees after releasing the cup onto the table, "He said that he began to think about Captain Hitsugaya all the time: when he was sparring with others, training, or even when he would retire to his quarters for the night. It interfered with his training because he could never clear his mind, and it began to make him angry. He was already fairly furious over the entire scenario with Vice-Captain Hinamori, but now he was getting even more livid that he couldn't see his old sparring mate. He began to wonder if he was indeed, still sane."

Ichigo listened, completely drawn into the story. He wondered if he would have felt the same way, had he been in Kuraime's situation. There was something so innately strange about the idea of the silver-haired 3rd Seat being anything other than the caring and passionate shinigami that he had portrayed himself as around the carrot-top. To think that he had been so troubled and angry…

Rangiku picked up where the noble had left off, fairly confident in her retelling of the remainder of the story; "I ended up staying at the dojo late one night after I taught a kendo course to some new recruits. I was just turning out all of the lights in my area of the practice hall when I noticed that Kuraime was still there, beating the pulp out of some of the practice dummies a few rooms over. It was as if he had seriously reached the end of his sanity, some new apathy flooding his body and driving him to kill anything that stood in his path. I knew from that moment that he wanted to see my Captain, very badly."

She broke to pour the last remnants of the alcohol from the bottle into Ichigo's cup, "And, suddenly, my Captain walked in, seemingly out of nowhere at all. Needless to say, I was rather shocked."

Ichigo's eyes widened at the twist in the story, wondering where exactly this was going.

"I watched as Kuraime spotted him and my Captain just stood there in the doorway for several long minutes. He told me later what he was thinking, and it was 'If I kill him, how will I get rid of the evidence or manage to find pardon for this crime against Soul Society?'

Despite the awkward tension that had settled over the small group, Ichigo couldn't help but chuckled slightly at the characteristic thoughts of his boyfriend.

"He removed his haori and sandals and told Kuraime to get his zanpakuto, that this time they were going to fight for real. The young Kuchiki's eyes nearly lit up at the harsh words, and it was as if he had been waiting forever for Hitsugaya to say those exact words to him, nearly tripping over himself to get his katana from it's sheath."

"He really fought him with his zanpakutou? Right there in the dojo?" Ichigo gawked incredulously.

"Of course…" Rangiku smirked softly, "Anyway, they fought for a bit, and my Captain's attacks were so fast and angry that I was pretty sure he was truly out for Kuraime's blood. I watched the younger Kuchiki just standing there trying to defend himself for the longest time, as my Captain fought in ways that I had never seen and still have not seen again to this day."

Suddenly, everything went silent, and Ichigo shifted in his seat at the weight of that quiet, "So…what happened that warrants such a moment of silence?"

Rangiku closed her eyes for a moment, a nostalgic smile taking place on her flawless face, "That's when things began to get a bit…well, _odd_."

Something knotted in the carrot-top's stomach, threatening to make him nauseous, "Odd?"

Rangiku nodded, "Yes, my Captain suddenly tossed Hyourinmaru aside and punched Kuraime squarely in the jaw."

Ichigo's mouth fell open at those words, "What did you say!?"

Rangiku chuckled slightly, "Yes, and I had no idea what to do, and apparently neither did Kuraime. In all the time that I have known my Captain, I have never once seen him cast aside his weapon in favor of a physical fight. Kuraime apparently hadn't either and never saw it coming. He was hit so hard that he fell backwards, right onto his back on the mats."

Byakuya subconsciously looked down at his lap, as if ashamed that his brother had been careless enough to take a hit from the 10th Division Captain. Or maybe it was something else…

"So, what did he do then? I'm sure he was pissed…" Ichigo muttered.

Rangiku let out a shaky breath that could have been a scoff or a snicker, "Quite the contrary…he didn't do anything. He just lay there, staring stupidly at my Captain while he stood there almost exploding with anger, ranting at the young Kuchiki for a long time. Then, well…he just walked over and straddled his hips, grabbing his hakama top in his fist and started screaming into his face about something I couldn't understand."

Ichigo's chest constricted as his entire thought process collapsed for a moment as he tried to wrap his mind around the implications of what Matsumoto was telling him and where this was going to take this conversation, "O-Okay, what?"

"Well," Rangiku cleared her throat before continuing, "Hitsugaya sneered in his face, apparently saying something that flipped a switch in Kuraime's brain – causing him to grab my Captain's shoulders – and suddenly they were kissing, as if it made perfect sense."

Ichigo stared in horror at the busty blonde beside him, hoping that maybe he had heard her wrong. One look from the man across from him told the substitute that he was not mistaken, and he couldn't deny it. "Are you saying that Toshirou made the first move?! Dear God, that's not something I can even imagine him doing…"

"Yes," came the deep voice across the table, "That is what she just said…"

Ichigo felt his heart hit the floor, turning his body to face the Vice-Captain beside him. He gripped his knees with enough force to turn his knuckles white and dig his nails into the thick black fabric of his hakama pants. A soft voice pulled him from his distractions…

"Ichigo…you said you would be okay with this. What's going on in your head?"

He loosened his grip on his knees as he lifted his eyes to meet the baby-blue's beside him, filled with such understanding, "I just…I never thought that he would be one to…that they would have been…"

He watched the strawberry-blonde turn to face him as well, lifting her legs to cross them in front of her on the sofa cushions as the softer voice of the substitute continued, "Did they…I mean – did they just have sex right there? In the middle of the dojo?"

Rangiku lifted a gentle hand to rest on Ichigo's left knee, squeezing gently, "I honestly cannot say…I managed to leave before I saw anything too obscene, so I can't tell you anything that took place after that. I'm sorry…"

Ichigo stared at the floor in deep thought, a look of defeat and jealously clear on his face as his chest tightened and he finally closed his eyes. He had known walking into this conversation that it would probably be a bad idea, but he _had_ to know…he had wanted to understand so badly; to maybe realize that there was nothing wrong with feeling afraid for the Kuchiki that his lover was, no doubt, reaming a new one right now.

Finally, he leaned back against the sofa cushions and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly and opening his mouth for one more question, the central worry in the back of his mind, "So, they became lovers…didn't they?"

As Byakuya turned his grey-gaze to look solemnly upon him, he almost didn't need to wait for the answer that was released.

* * *

The sudden glint of fading sunlight off of the steel blade pointed his way seemed to anger the icy shinigami, whose hand flew to the grip of his own zanpakutou as soon as his feet hit the ground. A warning tone was present on his words, "Kuchiki, be sure you know what you are getting yourself into if you challenge me to an actual duel. Just because I loved you once doesn't mean I'll spare you the humiliation of a quick and clean defeat."

A fire sparked in those azure orbs as Kuraime watched the captain close his eyes in anger, "You think that you can beat me so easily, throwing your words around like that?"

And with that he advanced on the slightly smaller man, slamming his blade down toward that snow crowned head, only to have a long silver blade with a turquoise hilt drawn faster than his own, block half a second before impact. Toshirou hadn't even flinched, and this only spurred the 3rd Seat on.

As Hitsugaya stood there, blocking blow after blow, never hesitating or stumbling in his defense, he had to admit, it had been a while since he had fought someone this challenging, this angry. It was almost exhilarating, in a way.

He swung his foot hard into an unprotected stomach, following it up with a roundhouse to the back of a neck. The 3rd Seat collapsed to his knees, strangling out a breathless cough, and Toshirou backed up a few steps, waiting to see what the younger shinigami would do next.

Kuraime raised his head carefully, wincing at the pain that surged through his body, and in the orange glow of the sunset behind them, Hitsugaya could clearly see a look of anger and total confusion written across that flushed and hurt face.

He didn't know when exactly it happened, but at some point during this fight, it had stopped being about hitting and blocking, but had become a competition to see who would give in to their instincts first.

Would Hitsugaya take revenge for the sins this man had committed against him? Or would Kuraime break and succumb to a bloodlust that boiled inside of him from all of the unsaid things that he wanted to release?

* * *

Ichigo wanted to laugh and cry at the same time as he realized that the answer to all of his lover's emotional walls had been so simple all of this time. He turned to Byakuya and tried to keep all traces of anguish and despair from his face as he pressed forward through the conversation, "So…what went wrong?"

The stoic noble showed no outward signs of emotion, his face blank and posture completely rigid and indifferent as he looked squarely at the wall ahead. "They were together for nearly five years…it was a well-matched pair – a simple bond with mutual dislikes and equal passions for the fight and one another."

Ichigo stared at him, those eyes clouded with an emotion that he couldn't define – Pain? Confusion? Irritation?

"But, that doesn't tell me why things are the way they are now. If it was such a great relationship then why are they so isolated? Why is Toshirou so distant? And why in the hell did he end up with me?"

The noble almost visibly winced at the blatant demand from the substitute, but continued nonetheless, "There relationship began almost a decade ago, lasting those blissful five years without much opposition at all. But a few weeks before their anniversary, both my brother and I were called into a Kuchiki clan meeting with the elders. It was discovered that some of the more traditional elders were unsatisfied that the heir to the Kuchiki name would not be able to bear any sons while he was with another man."

Ichigo's breath caught in his chest, a strange feeling of dread overtaking him as he continued to listen intently.

"They told him that he had one week to break off this relationship or they would be forced to go straight to the heart of the matter, Captain Hitsugaya, and end the relationship in a very messy and emotionally traumatizing manner. Needless to say, my brother was enraged and tried every tactic in the book to make them reconsider, even going as far as to offer his title up for sacrifice if he could just stay with the Captain."

Ichigo was stunned and furious at the same time, "But why couldn't Rukia just get married and have the next heir? I mean; she is the sister of your wife, Byakuya. Doesn't that make her family enough?"

There was another heavy silence that blanketed the conversation and Rangiku cleared her throat nervously, "Unfortunately, only Kuchiki's by blood have the privilege of bearing the next heir to the clan. And, since Byakuya and Kuraime's parents had no daughters and Byakuya's wife failed to bear children before her early death, well…"

Ichigo sighed heavily at the unfinished sentence, "The responsibility falls on Kuraime to bear the next heir to the clan…I see. But that is completely unfair."

Rangiku frowned at the statement, lifting Ichigo's chin to meet her eyes, "Since when has much of anything that Soul Society has done, been anything close to fair? You, of all people, should be aware of this harsh reality, Ichigo."

The deep voice of the Kuchiki filled the space, "The break was still a rather nasty one, even though Kuraime decided to attempt to end it quietly on his own, rather than have the family get involved. It happened right before the winter war began, probably around the time we were first hearing about the arrancar, because shortly thereafter, Captain Hitsugaya was deployed to Karakura town with the group of shinigami that helped fight off the initial attacks."

Rangiku cut in before Ichigo had a chance to talk on his own, "They still cared so much about each other, but Kuraime did what he had to do to appease his family, and needless to say, Captain Hitsugaya was furious about it. He wouldn't forgive Kuraime for dropping him so easily after five long and happy years together, and it was as if they were right back where they were five years prior: frustrated dojo members that hated each other with a passion…except this time, Captain Hitsugaya forbid Kuraime from ever coming to his office or quarters again…and he hasn't set foot in that dojo since that day five years ago."

"Wow…" Ichigo breathed, trying to take everything in…

"But wait…if he was supposed to leave Toshirou to go marry some stuck-up noble and have a baby – why is he still single and sleeping around with every Tom, Dick, and Harry that has a warm body and inviting smile? Shouldn't he be tied to someone?"

There was a dreadfully painful silence this time, the kind that nearly suffocates you with its weight. Ichigo looked from Rangiku to Byakuya, back and forth, waiting for some response. The one he got was not the one that he had been expecting…

"He did marry…" Byakuya said softly, "Her name was Hotaru, and she was a distant relation in the Shihoin clan, one that was both very young and soft-spoken. She had been selected from birth to marry into the Kuchiki clan and the wedding was an extravagant one. But, even I could see, that on his wedding day, there was such a sadness and emptiness in my brother's eyes. There still is to this day…"

Ichigo frowned in confusion, and once again, Rangiku cut him off before he could speak, "Hotaru died in the attack on Soul Society a few years ago…the one that my Captain and you fought to restore the Kings' Seal."

Ichigo froze, his blood running cold at the memory and new realization. She had died before bearing any heir…

"She got caught up in the fighting, and she was untrained to handle any weapon or combat of any kind. She fell when the ground split and broke as Kusaka formed that giant dragon fortress. She had been seeking refuge in the 3rd Division barracks when it collapsed. I think that to some degree, my Captain does feel extremely guilty about it, but the part of him that feels betrayed still wins out 100% of the time. But that's just how the Captain is, you know…"

* * *

Steel clashed with a radiating 'clang' that filled the heavy air around the two shinigami. Anger seeped off of the two like an oozing and dripping poison that was waiting to take the life of whatever it could manage to touch.

Weapons flashed in a frenzy to keep up with their counterparts, almost evenly matched – if it weren't for the slight hesitation in the 3rd Seat's step. Kuraime, even through all of his anger, pain, and frustration…was still afraid.

There was still an agonizing question tugging at the loose strings of his heart, so worn and battered from the last decade of torture and unhappiness that it had undergone.

"Hey, Toshirou," he said softly, despite their ravenous fight, "Can I ask you something?"

The spark behind those turquoise eyes staring back at him was akin to a fanfare of disbelief and exasperation, "Really, Kuchiki? You are in the middle of a fight and you want to stand around and chitchat, even having the gall to call me by my given name? You have some nerve…"

Kuraime took the lack of refusal as the closest thing to a 'yes' he was going to obtain from this man, and – bending his knees, spreading his legs wide to prepare an attack– he inquired softly, "When did you know?"

Not missing a beat, Toshirou's eyebrows furrowed in something like confusion, his sword coming down to land upon the others, "When did I know what, Kuchiki?"

The Captain moved in, dropping low and trying to sweep his feet out from underneath the 3rd Seat, causing the shinigami to jump upward and dodge the swipe. He retaliated with a few quick flicks of his katana, all of which were easily parried.

Backing off slightly, he continued, "When did you know that you were over me and were ready to move on to someone else?"

Hitsugaya couldn't help but take in a short breath at the surprise-question, nearly missing a lunge from the 3rd Seat, having to quickly duck to avoid obtaining a slice to the left cheek.

"Are you seriously asking me questions about our previous _relationship_?! You must have grown a new spine since I last spoke with you…to bad you didn't have it five years ago. Pity really…"

His voice was dripping with such sarcasm that Kuraime nearly felt it brush over his flesh like the air disturbances from the katana tip that barely missed his face. Taking a deep breath, he tried to still his mind, "Just answer the damned question, Hitsugaya."

He could nearly feel the new anger that boiled inside the man before him, and the soft chuckle of restrained rage didn't miss his ears.

"What's this about, Kuchiki? You miss me so much that you can't even hold a proper fight, instead choosing to cowardly attempt to distract me by speaking of things that hold no purpose any longer? I though even _you_ were a bigger man than that…"

Kuraime ducked in time to dodge a roundhouse kick to his jaw, dropping to the earth below and bracing himself on his free hand – striking out with a side kick from the ground, "So you didn't then? Fair enough… I was just making sure."

Toshirou obviously was not in agreement with the previous statement and a new tang of energy rolled off of him as his anger grew even larger. He closed his eyes, stilling for a moment, his sword hanging lax between his fingers. Then, with a whisper almost too soft for the azure-eyed Shinigami's ears, he bit back, "You were nothing but an obvious mistake – a fun one to make…while you lasted – but a grave mistake nonetheless."

Those words seemed to flip some switch in the younger man, his shoulders beginning to shake with a mixture of anger, pain, and insult. He gripped his katana more tightly than before, the blade trembling in his grip, and peeled his eyes open slowly, "Fine…If it's a fight you want…then it's a fight you will have."

The air suddenly thinned, almost as if it was being sucked out of the area with a vacuum, and Hitsugaya knew what was coming before he heard it, "Kuchiki…you should know better–"

But the icy words were still stated, nearly as calmly and stoically as his brother's own phrasing, "Sing towards the moon, Hakko no Daiyomandodasuto…"

* * *

Ichigo was, for the first time in the entire conversation, utterly speechless. He had no idea what he was supposed to say about all of this, let alone how he was supposed to feel.

Struggling to collect his thoughts, he stuttered through what he did understand, "S-So, Toshirou and Kuraime hated each other, t-then they decided that they would be a great couple, but y-your family didn't approve, and once more everything was royally fucked up by the higher-ups – causing Toshirou to completely despise Kuraime and thus we are here?"

Rangiku couldn't hold back the small sigh that escaped her, "That's about right, Ichigo."

And then he could no longer speak, paralyzed by an old sadness that he hadn't known in so long – one that seared through his heart like a heated dagger. No wonder his lover had been so hard to get through to…he had practically been in shambles for the past five years, and Ichigo had been none the wiser about it.

_So this is the big secret that he never told me – the skeleton in his closet kept locked away under several indestructible lock-and-key_.

"It would probably be best if you just returned home for the night. If you are not feeling up to travel then you can stay in my Captain's quarters. I'm fairly certain that _if_ he returns tonight he will not be retiring to his bedroom."

Ichigo lifted his head slowly to observe Rangiku, her voice soft and concerned. She was studying him with a maternal comfort in her ice-blue eyes that made something relax inside the substitute shinigami.

"Thanks, Rangiku, but I do think it is best that I get home. It doesn't seem that there is anything more for me to do here, so I guess I'll see you in a few days?"

A gentle, pale hand was placed on his shoulder, pulling him into a tight embrace that smelled of cinnamon and plum sake. "You take care of yourself tonight, Ichigo. You hear me? I don't want to see you a few days from now hung-over and in pain from lack of sleep."

Ichigo smiled softly at the concern and affection, hugging her firmly in return, "Don't worry about me. I'll be okay. These next few days are gonna be hard until I hear back from Toshirou, but I think I'll survive."

Releasing the carrot-top from her arms, she ruffled his hair playfully and shoved him toward the door, "Goodnight, Ichigo."

"Goodnight, Rangiku," he waved as he slid the door quietly open.

He was just about to make his exit when suddenly he thought of something, turning slowly over his shoulder to peer back at the silent noble still seated on the armchair.

"Hey, Byakuya?"

The Kuchiki slid his hard, steel-colored eyes to meet the substitute's own whiskey orbs, "Yes, Kurosaki?"

Ichigo sighed quietly, taking a deep breath and leaning against the wall slightly, "Do you think that you could send me a hell butterfly when you find something out about those two? I know I need to wait to hear from him about the final verdict on things, but I would really appreciate it if you could at least let me know that they don't kill each other…can you do that for me?"

There was a hanging silence following the request, tinged with a hint of sadness and tension. Ichigo could feel himself bracing his defense for any cold retort that the noble might spit back at him, knowing full well that he really had no right or privilege to be asking such things of the man whose brother he had recently taken advantage of.

Preparing to leave without an answer, Ichigo turned back to the door, but as soon as he took his first step to exit, that velvety voice like darkness responded simply, "I shall. Now go."

* * *

Toshirou could feel his opponent's spiritual pressure fluctuating everywhere as he blocked the now transformed katana that threatened to rid him of his head. That katana, appearing to be carved from the purest of diamonds – it's entirety composed of the precious stones – was something he never thought he would get to witness again.

Jumping back, he pulled his Bankai on just in time to protect himself from Kuraime's first released attack, "Daiyomando no Kosetsu…"

Suddenly those icy wings wrapped around his body, shielding it from the cyclone of sparkling diamond-like crystals that threatened to slice him into hundreds of pieces – reducing him to dust. Luckily, his manipulation of spiritual pressure allowed him to increase the density of his fortress to withstand the onslaught of razor sharp minerals.

The avoidance of the attack only fueled Kuraime on, spurring him to lash out once more. But Hitsugaya was prepared this time, launching his released Hyourinmaru directly at the other shinigami and mind-blowing speed.

As expected, Kuraime pulled out his first weapon defense, "Daiyomando no Kabe…" his voice rising slightly in volume.

Slamming his zanpakutou into the earth below, the ground shook slightly from the shock of it. But immediately, a large row of shimmering diamonds shot up from the ground, coalescing to form an impenetrable wall of priceless stones, causing the icy dragon to return to it's master.

"You haven't changed a bit, Kuchiki…still as flashy as ever with your zanpakutou," spat the 10th Division Captain as he bore down on the 3rd Seat, the wall shattering to reveal the now prepared form.

Evening was falling, the sun sinking quickly below the horizon as the battle raged on, never losing steam though it dragged on into the night.

Both shinigami were covered in light sheens of perspiration, their hair thoroughly mussed and clothing spotted with dirt and debris from the struggle. As swords clashed once more, Hitsugaya could tell that Kuraime was slowly running out of steam, "Are you tiring out now? Ready to call the battle?"

That was all the prompting that the Kuchiki needed to slam his sword forward, shoving the more seasoned shinigami backward a few yards, "You're asking for it, Toshirou…"

With that, he closed his eyes and held his zanpakutou before him, facing skyward as the moon shined down brighter than before. Releasing the katana, it hovered in the air, traveling upward as the clouds broke and the lunar light bore down on the white-haired captain across from him, "Daiyomando no Setsugekka…"

The sword shattered, flying through the air at blinding speeds – a dusty diamond powder that grew to form an enormous cloud of shining shards. Like a blizzard, it swallowed the entire area in a hazy silver-white mist, honing in on Hitsugaya as if to bind him. A shell of crystalline quality began to form quickly, encasing the Captain in a prison not too different from the one's that he created himself.

But Hitsugaya knew about this attack and, by default, was very familiar with the escape route. Steeling his spiritual pressure, compacting it into a small cylinder within himself, he braced his body for the imminent breakout.

As the casing reached his chin level, a low growl built in his diaphragm, climbing through his chest and out of his body as his spiritual pressure exploded, shattering the prison around him and shooting him forward to rebound with a vicious attack.

Kuraime could feel, before he saw, the blade slam against his shoulder, puncturing the flesh, grinding past bone and tendon, to slice out the other side. He could feel the strange, wet heat of the crimson fluids spilling from the wound and soaking into his hakama top. He could sense the weakness growing from the tips of his limbs and surging inward to bring him to his knees. There was a pinching sensation as the katana was jerked from his body, the blood gushing with a new power and purpose as if a dam had been broken. His now sealed katana came to clatter to the dirt next to him.

He watched as the Captain dropped to his knees beside him, sheathing his blade and attaching it to his back before reaching into his haori and pulling out a thick white cloth, tearing it in half and bunching it firmly in his lean hands. Reaching forward, he gripped the severed hakama top, ripping the sleeve off and shoving the remaining black fabric away from the gaping wound.

Handing one half of the cloth to Kuraime, he folded the other piece tightly before pressing it firmly against the wound at his back, "Here, you press this to the other side. We need to stop the bleeding."

Doing as instructed, the pain merely a dull throb to his raging emotions, Kuraime was speechless. _He cut me…no, he actually stabbed me_!

Pulling the younger shinigami into a standing position, Hitsugaya continued to apply pressure to the bleeding wound, "We need to get you back to you quarters. You still have those first aid supplies that we used to use?"

Shuddering slightly at the unbidden memories, Kuraime nodded tersely, closing his eyes against the sting of the frostbitten wound. He allowed himself to be led to the Kuchiki mansion as if he were walking in a dream, free of feeling and perception.

All that he could feel was that thin, but strong hand pressed to his back. Even through the thick white cloth that separated their flesh, he could still feel the electric-like waves of heat that poured into his body from the indirect contact.

...**_TBC_**...


	9. Proximity

Rating: R/MA

Warning: Strong sexual content, lemon, yaoi, language, violence

Characters in Chapter: Kuraime, Toshirou

Current Song Stuck in Head: Tongue Tied – Faber Drive

* * *

Chapter Nine: Proximity

* * *

The halls were blessfully empty as the two shinigami rushed down the corridor, elaborate jaspers and alabasters reflecting as they passed. Hitsugaya held the bunched white cloth tightly to the seeping gash in the 3rd Seat's shoulder, the tattered shinigami hakama top torn apart with the force of Hyourinmaru's chilling bite; the torn flesh beneath stood as a testament to the dragon's power and might.

Kuraime could feel himself frowning, his brows drawn tightly together as his mind raced. "Don't be so shocked, Kuchiki. Your white tiger should know better than to threaten me. Maybe this nice scar you are going to have will remind you of that in case you should ever try to raise your sword to me again."

Kuraime could feel the frustration in him building as they reached his quarters, sliding the door open as the two entered. Hitsugaya shook his head at the sour attitude of the young Kuchiki, clicking the latch on the door behind them, so there would be no interruptions, knowing that another argument, much more personal, was likely to ensue.

As they entered the bath chamber, Kuraime quickly turned on the captain as the pale hands lifted his sword belt from his back, placing the icy blade against the door frame, the prodigy quickly gathering medical supplies. "Well, what was I supposed to do? You come into my chambers unannounced after nearly five years and threaten my life because I slept with your ex-lover. Hell, I didn't even know Ichigo was yours until a few hours ago!"

Though his voice was low and breathy, his sapphire eyes flashed dangerously as the frosty captain pulled back the angry Shinigami's top further off of his left shoulder, obviously unfazed by the younger's accusations and protests of disbelief. Sighing as he cleaned the now clotting wound with a wet rag, he replied in a calm, even tone, "I'll admit that it was wrong of me to address you so harshly without hearing your side of the story, but you should have seen it coming. You are lucky I even have to decency to help you tend to this wound and save you the loss of pride from having to get your brother to do it. You are in a very precarious position due to your ballsy actions from last night."

Kuraime's eyes widened considerably, realization of the gravity in the situation hitting him all at once, thinking of the verbal lashing he would have received from his family, "Uh…thanks, I guess," he stated, his face hardening once more, "I'm sorry…I guess I just got carried away. I never had the right to draw my zanpakutou on you, Captain Hitsugaya, regardless of any lingering emotions…"

A tense silence hung all around as Toshirou made quick work of mending the wound, summoning a small amount of _kido_ to close the edges before he began to bandage it. As he wrapped the gauze around the tan shoulder, Kuraime spoke once again, his words filled with irritation and confusion, "Why are you even here tending to my wounds; wounds that you created with your own sword? Aren't you angry? Vengeful? You should be –"

"What!" is words were cut off as Toshirou snapped back, "I should be what? Letting you bleed? Letting you wallow in defeat? Kicking you while you are down because of some stupid grudge five years overdue? Don't think so little of me, 3rd Seat Kuchiki."

Then the room went silent once more, Kuraime's eyes glazing over slightly, as if in deep thought, his stoic mask freezing over his face, as if afraid to show his true emotions. Tension hung in the air, heavy with the weight of a thousand unspoken words upon the two shinigami, silence like daggers digging into their minds with an unforgiving force.

Hitsugaya broke the quiet by turning the lever on the sink and proceeding to rinse his hands clean of the crimson blood that he had spilled, the brown and red rivers cascading and swirling down the basin, disappearing into the drain below.

Kuraime watched the gentle way the captain dried his hands on a small towel, his eyes raking over the prodigy, as if trying to decode some enigmatic encryption, remembering in too-vivid detail the many talents those hands owned. Before he could stop himself, his body moved of its own accord, closing the distance between he and the elder shinigami, his hands resting on the narrow shoulders, spinning the stunned ice warrior around to face him, trapping his lean body between the counter and his own torso; arms caging him in on either side.

Toshirou's eyes narrowed, turquoise orbs glaring questioningly at the offending Kuchiki, "Is there a problem…?" was the low, threatening inquiry from the trapped man.

Kuraime's head was bowed low, his silver hair shading his face, falling into a silken curtain across his shoulders, Hitsugaya peering down at him through confused and exasperated eyes. The Kuchiki's shoulders tensed, his words filled with restrained frustration, "What is it going to take to make you understand? What do I have to do to make that cold mask shatter? Why won't you at least answer me my one question?"

Toshirou rolled his eyes, exasperation escaping his body in the form of a labored sigh, "You don't get it, do you? These games are wasted energy trying to pretend you are something that you are not. I do not know why you are trying so adamantly to achieve some low goal. There are so many better, more productive, things that you could be doing with that immense waste of energy."

Kuraime frowned deeply, his face coming mere inches from the captain's, his whispers laced with spite and malice, steeling himself for the uncharacteristically vulgar comment he was going to make for his last stand, feeling ashamed that he would even consider it, "You know, I didn't understand why at first, but now I do," his eyes bore into the narrowed orbs of the ice master, "An ice prince such as yourself can hide everything from the world, even from your own lover…but is it all worth it, Toshirou? Does it make you feel more alive being the way that you are?"

At those words, Toshirou slammed his hands against the Kuchiki's chest, shoving the man away from him in a swell of rage, "How dare you?! Have you no shame? What right do you think you have to question the way I have chosen to be? Just because you held some fear of standing in front of your family three years ago with me by your side and now you regret it, doesn't mean that you have any right to interfere with my current life!"

Kuraime quickly regained his balance, keeping his distance this time, "Why are you only angry with me?! He cheated you as well, knowingly even! What makes me so much worse than him?" he yelled back, his shoulders shaking with pent up frustration.

Toshirou closed his eyes, balling up his fists as he walked away from the counter, as if prepared to leave, pacing towards the upset Kuchiki, a painful emotion present in his teal orbs. Bringing his face level with Kuraime's, he met his angry sapphire eyes, latching onto them with a dangerous intensity, "Because, _Kuchiki_…" he spat the name before his voice went soft, "I trusted you…even though I couldn't be what your family required for you those years ago, I still trusted you with my life…and my heart…"

Kuraime's eyes shot wide open, his mouth slacking, "W-what?"

Hitsugaya reached out, placing his lithe hand on the white bandages, tucking under a loose end, "I may love that orange-haired jackass, but I can't say that I have ever completely trusted him not to act on his hormones whenever we fought…he's still just a kid. But the fact that you allowed him to take advantage of you like that was irresponsible and damn-near unforgivable as someone who states that they respected – even loved – me," and with that, he turned to leave, taking a small step toward his zanpakuto before feeling a warm hand stop him.

The fingers were firmly locked around his wrist, effectively stilling his movement. Toushirou turned sharply, eyes bearing into the sad sapphire orbs that stared back at him, full of hurt and apology, "I-I'm sorry…I really didn't know you were together at the time…I know that's no excuse, that he should have been untouchable regardless, but I never meant to cause so many problems. I guess I was just selfishly hoping that by allowing him to claim me, it would put me one step closer to indirectly getting over you."

Suddenly, Toshirou's eyes widened, jerking his wrist back, "So, this is how you move on?! Whoreing yourself out to the next warm body that comes on to you?? You are pathetic…"

Kuraime's eyes widened once more, shoving the captain backwards and rearing back to strike him, but Hitsugaya was too fast, trapping the offending hand against the wall behind the furious 3rd Seat, immobilizing him with his other arm braced across the half-bare chest, the robe slipping down the clothed, uninjured shoulder, more caramel flesh peeking out. The Kuchiki could feel the prodigy's heart hammering against his chest, their bodies pressed together with frustration and violence, but a startlingly familiar scent reached the 3rd Seat's nose, stirring emotions in him he had staved off for months: warm vanilla and night-blooming jasmine.

Kuraime, though angry with insult, could feel a deep confusion filling him; an old sensation was beginning to take over his body. Gasping at the sudden tightening of his robes across his hips, a long-forgotten arousal tore through him.

Without thinking, he shifted his weight, spinning the captain around and pushing himself away from the cold, unforgiving marble wall. He watched as the tendo responded by attempting to lift his arms up to block an anticipated frontal attack; the 3rd Seat brushed the defending hand away, grabbing Hitsugaya's shoulders, squaring them to bring the two shinigami nose-to-nose, eyes intensely warring with each other, turquoise sparring with sapphires.

The emotions and feelings bubbled within the 3rd Seat, running rampant and boiling like a volcano ready to erupt after years of laying dormant. Then there was that voice, both loathed and adored, that was now speaking to him - so heavy with resignation and hopelessness.

"Why do we keep doing this…? It's over, Kuraime…yet we still don't know how to not be–mphh"

Suddenly, the screaming and shoving ended, the lips of the 3rd Seat crashing against those of the captain in a rush of adrenaline, his mouth covering the other's forcefully, as if to suck the air right out of him. The young Kuchiki's hands grasped tightly at the sides of the icy tendo's face, holding him firmly and demandingly to his body, his tongue sliding softly against the elder's bottom lip, seeking more. It was as if he was challenging him to another duel, only this time, a battle filled with years worth of sexual frustrations and pent up anger.

_Gods, I've missed this_… were the thoughts of the now very flustered Kuchiki as he lost what little resolve he had acquired during their fight. He didn't know what had come over him, but he was powerless to stop now. The only coherent thought he could process was 'more...please...now...'

The captain was frozen, both from shock and confusion, his words dying inside the other's lips, unable to respond or deny the shinigami that was quickly working on the obi at his waist, pulling the white cloth free and unfastening the bindings with practiced ease. The younger quickly loosened the garment enough to slide the pants to pool at his feet, cascading down those porcelain thighs and alabaster calves.

A gasp fell from the imprisoned lips of the ice warrior, dying as it disappeared into the demanding mouth of the future 3rd squad captain. Hands raked up his sides, trailing fingertips over the dips and curves in his ribs and hips, resting lightly on the tight abdominal muscles as they twitched with restraint beneath them, as if re-mapping territory that had not been traversed in several millennia.

Hitsugaya felt himself slipping, torn between the anger harbored and the heat that this 3rd Seat, Kuraime Kuchiki, had always been able to cause to pool in his lower stomach. He tried to pull away, pressing against that toned chest before him, half hidden beneath the folds of his shinigami shirt, only to have his hands pinned on either side of his head and his neck attacked by that wicked tongue. The soft, slippery muscle trailed licks and kisses from the base of his shoulder to the shell of his ear, tracing the lines and curves of his jaw, nipping at it every so often, evoking a shudder from the frosty captain. _This isn't right_…

Hitsugaya began to panic. It was true that he had every right to be doing what he was at this moment in time, but something felt so incredibly sinful about it. _We had our chance…it didn't work!_

Just as he was about to resist once more, steeling his muscles to break free from the grip of the young Kuchiki, he felt something that made him weak in the knees. Kuraime's tongue darted to that sensitive bundle of nerves behind his left earlobe that only he, not even Ichigo, had ever discovered, flicking at it with his tongue and observing the acute affect that it had on the captain.

Toshirou felt his eyes snap shut in both intense pleasure and reminiscence, his teeth grinding into his lower lip, his hands fisting up where they were shackled by slightly larger ones; his hips thrust towards the other's mindlessly, causing the 3rd Seat to groan lowly, attacking the spot once more, earning him a low sigh from the snowy shinigami. _See…I remember how to make your body honest…_

After the next flick of the tongue to his lips, Toshirou could do nothing but drop his jaw and grant the younger shinigami entrance; that velvety tongue, that tasted of black tea, dipping into the foreign heat with a renewed fervor.

The vulnerable captain felt his back collide with the wall behind him, his body pressed against Kuraime's like a glove, both releasing strangled grunts at the unexpected contact of their quickly hardening members through the fabric of the thick black material of the shinigami robes. Toshirou let slip another gasp as his top was thrown open, cold air hitting the hot flesh beneath as the sapphire-eyed Kuchiki locked his lips onto his pulse point, suckling gently at the sensitive skin of his throat, surely marking him as his own for that heated evening.

The younger drew back, peering down and taking in the delicious sight of the bare captain of the 10th before him: the long, toned torso; muscles tight beneath the alabaster flesh; the lithe, lean legs; the swollen flesh between his creamy thighs; the black robes hanging seductively from his shoulders baring him to the other. Kuraime's eyes widened as he rememorized the more mature sight, sapphire orbs glazing over as his current thoughts mingled with those of the past, "Gods…you're still perfect," he murmured as he attacked the pale neck once more, "there isn't anything about you that hasn't gotten even more beautiful."

He nipped at the skin of the prodigy's shoulders before resting his forehead on the tight, pale chest in front of him, the grip on the captain's wrists tightening, "Can't you see that I miss you?"

Toshirou's cerulean eyes widened considerably as he began to realize something. _He isn't trying to get me to pardon his sins…he's trying to get me to accept where he stands, to see him as someone who's worth it…worth it to fight as an opponent, worth it to be a strong captain of the 13 Court Guard Squads, worth it to stand beside…This is a cry to be seen as someone worth giving a second chance to…a cry for forgiveness_.

His thoughts were interrupted as the forehead left his chest, oceanic orbs lifting to meet his own turquoise gaze, searching his eyes for an answer. Toshirou felt his heart go out to this man, reminded of just how thoroughly devoted the Kuchiki had been to him while they were together. He had always paid such thorough attention to every detail about the icy captain's life, memorizing every facet of his body, emotions, and daily routine. And then the young Kuchiki had just thrown all of that away because he became _too_ scared to stand up to his family…

_It wasn't fair…he wronged me! But..._

It was like drowning and falling at the same time, a heady sensation of pent up lust mixed with an aching longing in the pit of his heart that said he still hadn't completely let go.

And that was when it occurred to him – why he was so distant with Ichigo, regardless of how happy the young man made him and how beautiful the first half of their relationship had been…

Part of him was still in love with this young shinigami before him – Kuraime Kuchiki – future captain of the 3rd Division and current heir to the Kuchiki clan.

It all suddenly made sense, even through the haze of lust and overwhelming surprise; and something inside of the prodigy snapped.

Without thinking about it further, he leaned forward and experimentally planted a soft, ghosting kiss against the slack lips of the stoic Kuchiki heir. He was greeted by a gasp, Kuraime's eyes snapping shut, his left wrist quickly freed so the young 3rd Seat could dive his fingers into the snow white hair at the base of the ice warrior's neck, pulling their lips together in a fiery dance, so wrought with desperation and need.

When the kiss broke, their eyes met, sapphires mixing with turquoise, their foreheads pressed together as they silently breathed hot breath across the other's face. "Thank you…"

Toshirou barely caught the words before he was reduced to soft whimpers as the young Kuchiki pushed his haori and black robes back, bunching at his elbows, re-pinning his wrists, and exploring his toned chest with his wandering tongue, the 3rd Seat now trembling with both anticipation and excitement.

Toshirou felt his stomach tightening with pleasure as Kuraime's skilled left hand hovered just over his now hardening member, torturously feeling out the territory, before encircling the head and pumping gently a few times, almost hesitantly, as if trying to remember how to do it. The white-haired captain jolted at the sensation, his head slamming back against the wall of the bathroom, causing stars to dance before his eyes at the sudden mixture of pleasure and pain.

His unoccupied right hand began to unconsciously tear at the black fabric of the younger Shinigami's pants, ripping off the obi and throwing the black material to the tiles below without hesitation, to drop in an unceremonious heap at his feet. It was the nip at his ear that gathered his thoughts once more, "S-stop!" he breathed raggedly, "Your wounds…they'll open again–"

But his words were swallowed by that sinful mouth, disappearing like the earliest moans, as if they were never there, into that wanting heat, a tongue beginning to duel with his own.

He allowed his shaking hands to explore the now bare body of the shinigami before him, mapping out and memorizing the planes and contours of his torso and hips, running his lean fingers over the subtle, but tight, muscles beneath the caramel skin, a body shaped so similarly to the one that he was used to feeling in this situation…and so much more matured and masculine than the one that he had felt five years ago…

His motions stopped as he reached the erect flesh that stood, begging for attention. He lightly flicked his fingertips along the shaft, sliding them gently across the deep vein. He felt and heard the grunt of surprise and the shiver of pleasure from the man beneath his fingers.

"Have you always been this sensitive?" he whispered teasingly.

The young Kuchiki swallowed hard, his eyes beneath heavy lids, his right hand pinning the captain's left hand, and the other still on his leaking member. He didn't answer at first, seeming extremely hesitant to speak. Toshirou's eyebrows creased in thought as he began to stroke the young 3rd Seat's swollen member, watching the emotions play across his face and gauging the reactions of his body.

With each stroke, Kuraime's frown deepened, his mouth panting for air, his shoulders tensed, and the grip on Hitsugaya's left wrist tightened almost painfully.

"It's been a while since anyone has touched you like this, hasn't it, Kuraime?"

The young Kuchiki tensed at the inquiry, "Does it matter…?"

Toshiro was silent for a moment before shaking his head sharply, the feeling of the younger Shinigami's tongue trailing down his sensitive throat to his pale chest, causing his grip to tighten on his shaft, evoking a grunt of approval from the 3rd Seat, "Of course not. I was merely curious…"

Then, Hitsugaya experienced all of his self-control going out the window when he felt the liquid heat of the silver-haired Shinigami's mouth encase the rigid flesh between his thighs in one fluid movement. Toshirou felt his body mold against the slate-grey wall, his fingers digging into the marble in a vain attempt at grounding himself. Waves of heat were beginning to travel through his normally icy body, sweat beads building on his brow and collarbone through a haze of insane pleasure.

The young 3rd Seat licked and sucked at the hardened flesh, creating a mind-blowing suction that the captain was not prepared for, a strangled moan escaping his lips as his pale left hand quickly slammed over his mouth, his other, now freed, knotting in the other's silver hair.

His body was dripping with perspiration when the young Kuchiki finally removed his lips, sliding back up that tight, toned, porcelain body in front of him. He slid his nimble hands up to those pale hips, raking his dull nails across their lean points, before reaching further down and hooking his left arm under Toshirou's left knee, lifting it up to expose his most sensitive areas.

Kuraime took advantage of Hitsugaya's slightly hazed state to shove three fingers into his mouth, rubbing his fingertips along the tops of the taste buds, thoroughly coating them. Withdrawing them from the now gasping lips, the silver-haired Kuchiki slid his well-lubricated hand down the inside of the prodigy's thigh to encircle the tight ring of muscles softly.

As gently as he could manage, he pressed his middle finger past the band of tissue, raining teasing licks along the shell of the captain's ear to distract him from any discomfort as best he could. The man squirmed pathetically at the intrusion, not re-accustomed to the alien digits of the young Kuchiki invading his body. But through the slight sting of the penetration, the pumping and gentle strokes he was receiving from these same familiar fingers were causing some fairly relaxing sensations to permeate his consciousness, causing him to release a soft sigh in reply.

The 3rd Seat took this as his cue and slid his index finger in gently to join the first in its quest for that divine spot that would completely capture the ice prince's senses. Toshirou tensed around him, one hand over his mouth to stifle the moans, the other bracing himself against Kuraime's shoulder, his fingertips digging into the tan flesh.

Suddenly after the young Kuchiki added his third and final finger, the white-haired ice warrior tightened almost painfully around him, letting out a strangled cry behind his own muffling digits. That's when Kuraime Kuchiki knew that he had found it: that bundle of nerves that drove him crazy with lust and pleasure; striking it again, he felt the tendo's body buckle.

Kuraime removed his fingers, and dropped Toshirou's leg, pressing him against the wall as he stepped away for a moment, grabbing a bottle of hand lotion from the medicine cabinet. Popping the cap off, he squeezed a generous amount into his hand, tossing the bottle onto the counter as he padded back over to the still dazed man against the wall.

He quickly recaptured those lips in another heated kiss, his tongue delving into every contour of that sweet mouth. While plundering those soft lips, Kuraime took his time slathering up his own now leaking member.

Reaching down, he hooked his elbows beneath the crooks of the prodigy's knees, lifting him up and slamming him against the wall for leverage. Without another thought, he began to slowly, but steadily, press his rigid length into the writhing body above him. Inch by inch was sheer torture for the 3rd Seat, biting his lower lip to keep from thrusting with reckless abandon into the trembling body that now completely encased him.

To Toshirou, it was incredible, he could feel him, he could feel him feeling him, the way his muscles bunched and uncoiled to push into him, the sounds of his breathing as it became heavier and heavier. They both were panting now, each of them letting out a series of groans and sharp gasps as they stood there, joined and sweating, trying to hold their releases at bay for as long as they could, wanting to savor every moment of this endeavor.

After a few moments of heated breathing and torturous stillness, Kuraime slowly rocked his hips forward, arms curled beneath Toshirou's knees, jaw slack with labored breath, and his forehead pressed to a damp ivory shoulder before him.

The breathing became gasps of pleasure, and the gasps turned to moans and grunts of exertion and sensation. The smooth surface of the marble wall was slick against the captain's back, the lack of friction causing an even slipperier plane with which to accept the rough thrusts from the future captain currently inside of him. Gravity helped to seat him fully on the man beneath him, his legs spread as wide as they could comfortably manage, sat slickly upon the young Kuchiki's flexed arms, hooked at the crooks of each limb.

The feelings were intense: the muscles of the captain closing around the 3rd Seat with every strike to that insatiable bundle of nerves. The teal-eyed ice wielder's lids were squeezed shut, his teeth closed over the deltoid muscle on the Kuchiki's right shoulder, his body assaulted with such intense waves of feeling that he could hardly contain himself, something in the pit of his abdomen beginning to pull impossibly tight as the younger shinigami continued to thrust roughly into his lithe body.

The grunts of the silver-haired Kuchiki grew louder as his pleasure built, signs that his release was nearer than he had previously expected. Toshirou, in a desperate attempt at reaching that torturously close climax, reached between their bodies, latching onto his throbbing flesh, thoroughly slick and slippery from the pre-ejaculation, the lack of friction sending shivers of impatience down his spine.

As if sensing his frustration, Kuraime lifted the captain's knees even further, dropping him back down, impaling him harshly, evoking a choked sob from the elder's lips as he pressed his forehead into the Kuchiki's hair burying his nose in the intoxicating scent of lavender as his release approached quickly.

Upon the next strike to his prostate, the prodigy captain of the 10th Division came completely undone with a strangled cry against the neck of the madly thrusting 3rd Seat, his fluids spilling against their chests, dripping down to their joining.

As the already tight, velvety muscles of the captain clenched tightly around Kuraime, he couldn't help but whine and gasp pitifully as his acute climax tore through him almost violently, his body tightening and shaking as he emptied himself into the still spasm-ridden body of the heavily panting tendo. The release had been so powerful that he didn't even notice the tearing of his flesh as his wound reopened, red blood spilling out and staining the captain's hands pressed against his shoulders.

The moments that followed were all executed in a hazy fog that covered the two shinigami, and neither quite knew how they managed to summon the strength to perform the necessary tasks. No words were spoken as the Kuchiki heir removed his now shrinking length from the limp captain, or as that captain placed his feet on the floor, his forehead resting on the sweaty shoulder in front of him. The first words that were produced were upon the sight of the red, metallic blood upon the petite hand of the captain, "Oh shit…"

Immediately sobered, Toshirou pulled his top from where it had bunched at his elbows, lifting it over his shoulders and wrapping it around himself to conceal his bare body. Using his free hand that wasn't stained with red, he gathered more bandages, rinsing his hand off in the sink and wetting a fresh cloth to clean up the mess. He grabbed his obi, tying it around his waste, deeming it adequate coverage for the task at hand.

After removing the soaked bandages and thoroughly cleaning the wound once more, Toshirou guided the young shinigami over to the bedroom, sitting him on the bed and climbing up behind him to rewrap the flared injury. As his nimble hands guided the white gauze around the caramel shoulder and covered the gash, he felt a hand come to rest atop his own, stilling its motions.

He gazed up at the back of Kuraime's head, his face drawn in a slight frown, "So, what happens now?"

Toshirou's frown deepened, "What do you want to happen now?"

He felt the young Kuchiki sigh, his head ducking slightly as he stared at his hakama pants now covering his lower body. "I wish I knew…"

Toshirou remained silent for the rest of his task, pinning the bandages tightly upon completion. He scooted off of the bed, turning to return to the bathroom and retrieve his pants, but was stopped by a hand around his wrist: long, thin fingers encircling it much more gently than the previous time. He whipped his head back around, snowy hair rippling with the motion, to stare questioningly at the silent 3rd Seat.

"Please stay…" came the soft request.

Toshirou's eyes widened, "What?"

Kuraime's eyes rose to meet the teal orbs shining back at him. Taking a deep breath to calm his heart, he said, with more conviction, "If only just for tonight. Please stay…"

Now the icy captain was fairly stunned, unable to figure out why the young Kuchiki would make such a request. Then he realized the reason, as if it was something he should have known all along. _He doesn't want to be alone. He wants to know that I don't regret this…that I'm not ashamed of it – that it wasn't some empty passion_.

He watched as the sapphire eyes of the Kuchiki heir retreated back to his black pants, his shoulders slumping slightly as if defeated. Once again, Toshirou's heart went out to this vulnerable, naïve young shinigami; a man who just wanted to be accepted and show emotion without feeling some amount of regret for it.

He wasn't like his brother, Byakuya, who could hold his stoic and cold exterior 24/7 for years without fail and not break emotionally. No, this man was different, much more volatile and in need of companionship. All he had was his brother to fill the void of loneliness, and even Byakuya couldn't fill the hole that constantly grew in his heart; the hole that called for someone to look at him as an equal and to have that be enough. Suddenly, the years of hatred and loathing for this man before him faded without an protest, replaced by a new and worrisome feeling of understanding. _I think I can do that for him…even if it is only for one night_.

With weary eyes, Hitsugaya walked slowly and silently over to the grieving 3rd Seat, apparently unnoticed in his approach. Once he was standing directly in front of the Kuchiki, he placed a lean hand beneath the man's chin, raising his eyes to meet his own. Those sapphire eyes widened slightly at the gesture, his body rising to stand at eye level with the prodigy.

He watched in shock as the captain reached forward and pulled the obi from the pair of pants he had donned, causing the thick fabric to pool at his feet, leaving him naked before him once more. A lean, but strong hand rose to the tan chest, flattening itself against his sternum and pushing him to sit once more.

Kuraime obeyed, eyes wide in anticipation and confusion, as he watched the frosty ice wielder untie his own obi, parting his robes and letting them fall from his pale shoulders onto the hardwood floor below, his bare body practically glowing in the moonlight, a soft breeze from the cracked window ruffling through his hair giving him an ethereal appearance. Kuraime was _captivated_.

Toshirou pushed him back further, watching as he scooted to the top of the bed, pulling the blankets down and crawling beneath them, pulling them back over, anxious to see what was going to follow. He was _not_ disappointed.

The tendo climbed onto the bed, sliding over to the stunned shinigami, and came to kneel between his parted knees, placing his hands on either side of the Kuchiki's hips as he leaned down and brushed his nose against the younger one's. "I think I can manage that…" he whispered against the other's lips.

Kuraime shivered at the words and the hot breath on his face, "T-thank you…Captain."

With that, he leaned upward, fitting his lips softly to the elder Shinigami's, initiating a tender and chaste kiss of gratitude. Both tossed away annoying thought and fell into the kiss, allowing it to overwhelm their senses, soft lips sliding over one another, tongues peeking out shyly to ask for entrance, the other kindly allowing it passage. This kiss was nothing like the ones they had shared earlier; this was much more significant, filled with emotion and feeling instead of lust and frustration.

It felt like the last five years had never happened and they were right back there, lovers that were prepared to spend the rest of their days together…if only for the night.

Kuraime raised his right hand to gently cup the captain's cheek, caressing his temple with a callused thumb. He allowed his eyes to slide shut at the feeling of the prodigy running his lithe fingers down his lean torso, fingering all of the curves and dips in the muscles, as if lost in a ghost of a memory.

Then, as if snapping from a daydream, Hitsugaya gently rolled to his side, reaching over to extinguish the flames of the small candles on the bedside table, bathing the room in a calm darkness. Pulling the blankets up to their chests, he relaxed into the mattress, sighing as the warm weight of his bedmate came to rest on his firm chest.

He circled a lean, toned arm around the slightly larger man, glad that his own body had filled out enough to not look like a child anymore. Stroking a lazy hand up the caramel spine, he whispered softly, "Sleep now, we'll talk more in the morning."

…_TBC_…


	10. Possession

Rating: MA/R

Warning: Language, Adult Content, strong sexual content, lemon, yaoi, language

Characters in Chapter: Toshirou, Kuraime, Byakuya

Current Song Stuck in Head: Hands Clean – Alanis Morissette

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**Chapter Ten**: Possession

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The rustling of silken fabric roused him from his dreamless sleep, causing him to peel his eyes lazily open to meet the dim light of the moon, shining in from the still open window. _ It must still be late_…

Turning his head slightly in the darkness, he was met with the frowning face of the ashen-faced shinigami beside him, troubled even in sleep it seemed. Reaching a lean hand, he ghosted his fingertips gently over the crinkled flesh, trying to soothe the tension away.

Sapphire eyes blinked slowly into awareness, widening upon realization that he was not alone.

Toshirou raised a finger to his lips, silencing any questions or protests that might have fallen from them, "Shh…you need to be quiet. It's very late and you don't want to wake anyone."

Blinking a few more times, the young Kuchiki sighed as his body relaxed slightly. He rolled himself into the other's side, his forehead dropping onto the creamy pale shoulder beside him.

"Is something wrong?" Hitsugaya inquired, taking note of the tension that still remained in those tan shoulders, and the way the 3rd Seats breathing was rather erratic.

Silence sat heavily upon the two for a few minutes, the younger shinigami tensing even more than before as he slowly rose to a sitting position, the blanket falling to pool at his narrow hips, chest glowing darkly in the lunar light, standing in stark contrast to the white bandages that covered his torn flesh. "I-It's nothing. We should go back to sleep…"

The icy captain rose to a sitting position as well, bracing himself on a flat palm placed firmly on the soft mattress. He frowned deeply at the empty words, raising a hand to rest lightly on the flawless, uninjured shoulder before him, "Don't lie to me…you were never any good at it, and you still aren't now."

Sighing softly, the future Captain hung his head slightly, a thoughtful smile twitching at the corner of his lips. "Do you remember the last time we were together like this…?"

Toshirou was a bit taken aback by the sudden and blunt question, forcing him to recall a time five years prior that he had done his best to bury deep within the recesses of his untouchable mind. "Yes…"

Another moment of silence settled over, though this one was far less tense and much more reminiscent, feeling much like looking at a stack of old, forgotten photographs in a dusty old box.

"You remember how I told you that you were my first and that I wanted you to be my last as well?"

The silent captain smiled ruefully at the memory, his own head bowing slightly, as if in reverence to some sacred words. "I do…and I also remember me sharing your sentiments. But then –"

A warm, callused row of fingers came up to cover his lips, cutting of any further words, and any statements that might break the almost magical tone that this night had taken on. "Don't, Toshirou…just forget about all of the bad things that happened for a minute. Trust me, I know we both remember everything in vivid details, neither of us need reminding of those memories."

The icy shinigami felt a sting of guilt at the impact of his words, realizing once more that this wasn't just another argument to be had. This man felt genuinely bad for what had happened, going as far as to conjure up old treasures of the past that were close enough to the nightmares that followed to directly link the two thoughts without any real segue.

Wrapping a strong arm tightly around the slightly smaller man's alabaster shoulders, Kuraime buried his nose in the silky white spikes that smelled of snow and vanilla, catching the familiar scent that he missed so much that it hurt.

Whispering softly against the down-soft locks, he tightened his grip subtly, "I just wanted you to know that I never wanted to give you up. I…I really was ready to fight for you. I just…"

He trailed off, his voice choking slightly as if trying to hold back torrents of emotion that had bottled up for so long that they were threatening to spill over with the slightest provocation. Taking a deep breath to collect himself a bit, he brushed his lips gently over the soft skin of the captain's forehead, "I never wanted you to go. I died inside the day you walked away and told me to never interfere with your life again. Your words haunt me to this day, never allowing me a moment's rest, save for the few times I have been able to lose myself in someone else for a temporary night of drunken oblivion."

Toshirou could feel the tremors of the other man's body, the trembling muscles that fought so hard to hold his emotions at bay and control himself like the noble he was raised to be.

"I didn't know what to do, deluding myself, for a time, into thinking that if I waited long enough, you might come back to me. Then I heard rumors that you had found someone else… I didn't know who it was, but that was all I needed to know to realize that I had lost you, and that any chance of a future with you was probably void…lost."

He shuddered against the stiff ice warrior beside him, a pale arm coming to cradle his back, supporting him as he continued, "I think that a part of me held onto the belief that maybe, one day, something would bring you back to me, but I couldn't just sit around and wait for it to happen. I distanced myself from everything that reminded me of you, even going so far as to retreat into hiding with the rest of the Kuchiki clan when the Winter War exploded; no matter how I wanted to fight, I couldn't risk running into you."

That was when he broke, silent tears of hurt and hopelessness streaming down his tanned cheeks, dripping onto the lavender sheets below, staining them with his sorrow.

Suddenly, Toshirou disappeared from his arms, pushing the weeping 3rd Seat back against the headboard as he moved to rest between those caramel hips. Wide eyes met his own determined gaze as he leaned down to press a comforting kiss to the sobbing lips, salty with his tears.

The captain's hands slithered down the insides of the Kuchiki's thighs, causing him to shudder at the sensation. Slowly and gently, he parted the almond colored flesh, sliding his body into the newly provided space, capturing the 3rd Seat's mouth in another searing kiss, lapping at his tongue and lips with a heated determination. He smirked lightly as he heard the deep moans beginning to form in the younger man's throat, pressing the tan warrior to lean back against the dark mahogany-colored board, his shoulders resting against the intricate woodwork.

Toshirou's right hand pressed on the back of the Kuchiki's right thigh to spread his legs further, pushing his knees to the side to make room for what was to come. With his left hand, he ran the tips of his fingers over the now half-erect member standing proudly against the 3rd Seat's stomach, evoking low, throaty grunts and sighs with his ministrations. He took him fully in his hand, stroking and pumping him leisurely the sounds coming from the 3rd Seat only encouraging him further.

"W-What are you doing…?" was the soft, breathy question that slipped from the panting lips below him.

As he stroked the man into complete arousal, Toshirou managed to slide his fingers into his own mouth, coating them thoroughly with his saliva before quickly, but gently, pressing his index finger into the Kuchiki's entrance, a moan slipping from the man's lips in response. As Hitsugaya began to work his finger slowly, he watched as the diamond master's fingers balled up the sheets in his fists, his knees pulling back to accommodate the Captain's activities.

"I'm just taking your advice…" he breathed over the slightly larger man's neck.

As the frosty captain entered the second finger, he stroked Kuraime's length more roughly, pulling a strangled moan of over stimulation from his throat, his sapphire eyes hidden behind tightly closed lids. He had never seen the younger shinigami look so helpless, so vulnerable…but then again, with the exception of one passion-filled anniversary, Toshirou had never been the one to give in their relationship, always receive.

"What do y-you mean, T-Toshirou…?"

After entering the last digit, Toshirou captured that wanton mouth once more, delving into it as moans and gasps slid out of it, unaccustomed to the foreign determination of the elder shinigami.

Finally, the captain left the sweet lips and trailed down to the long neck, licking the smooth skin, his hands removing themselves from his nether regions, causing a whimper of loss to fall from the Kuchiki's mouth.

"I'm helping us forget…even if it's only for the night."

Spitting quickly into his hand, Toshirou slathered his now rigid length with the lubricant, and, with a small kiss on his sweat-slicked forehead, he placed himself between Kuraime's legs and lowered his torso until he was only inches above him, "Relax and breathe, okay?"

The 3rd Seat nodded as his fingers clenched the sheets, his legs spread as wide as they could go, his feet planted flat on the mattress below, head bowed slightly to observe the endeavor. Then, slowly, Toshirou began to push himself in, feeling the young Kuchiki begin to contract around him at the pleasurable sensation of being filled and stretched.

Every inch was a battle to not succumb to the heat that threatened to consume him, but after completely sheathing himself in the wanton body below, he was overwhelmed by the feeling of Kuraime's heat, tight and moist around him. The silver-haired 3rd Seat was biting his lip, his eyes shut, tears falling anew as he tried to contain the sounds that threatened to spill out.

They sat there for a moment, connected once again, only this time, it was not out of animal instinct or frustration…it was out of a want and need for the other…almost a ghosting reminder of the distant past. A moan escaped the Captain as he pulled out slowly, thrusting back in gently and smoothly to establish a slow and shaky rhythm, pressure already building in his groin.

Soon enough, the 3rd Seat bucked his hips, begging for more, and Toshirou started to move with a new fervor, their hips grinding into one another's with a delicious friction. As the perspiration started to build on their forms once more, the icy Captain began to plunge in deeply, causing the Kuchiki to gasp and sob in awe at the sensation as his previously neglected prostate was struck violently, ripping new tears from his eyes that slid down his cheeks and pooled at the dip in his collarbone.

Groaning at the acute tightness of the canal around his length, Toshirou knew he was at the perfect angle. He continued to thrust identically each time, reveling in the feeling of the Kuchiki's squirming and writhing body tensing and squeezing around the his already painfully hard member.

He felt hands come under his arms, wrapping themselves beneath his shoulders and around his back, blunt nails digging into the alabaster flesh below them. Toshirou pushed himself up, his hands bracing themselves against the wooden headboard just above the trembling Kuchiki's shoulders, raising himself to gain greater leverage, thrusting with a more assured force into the now shivering body below.

With every slam, they both felt a sensation that was enough to knock the wind right out of their already heavily panting bodies. "Shit…" Toshirou hissed through his teeth, his orgasm fast approaching.

Kuraime's mouth fell open as Hitsugaya started to move with more force and a quicker pace. His back arching up, he felt the friction between their skins and wrapped his ankles around Toshirou's hips, spreading his thighs as far as he could manage, their torsos sliding together deliciously.

Hitsugaya inhaled a quick intake of breath as his eyes clouded over when the muscles around his member closed in on him like suction, pulling him in and surrounding him once more, "Fuck, Kuraime…"

A gasp escaped Toshirou's throat and with a growl, his thrusts came harder. His hands found purchase on the hollowed areas of bed's headboard and Kuraime's chest heaved as a scream erupted from him, his still leaking eyes squeezing shut as, one hit after another to his prostate, the pleasure built within him, suffocating him.

The Kuchiki let out a strangled cry, as he felt Hitsugaya sink his teeth into his neck, spewing hot streams of release onto his own chest and stomach as he achieved his peak.

Toshirou shuddered at the sound of Kuraime's cries, thrusting wildly a few more times, pushing the boy down more firmly against the headboard, arching his own back just slightly and letting out a blissful sigh as he reached his own release, coating the Shinigami's insides thoroughly.

Their panting was the only sound in the room as they rode out that blissful feeling of the afterglow, Toshirou having collapsed atop the tan flesh of the trembling Kuchiki, his hands hanging limply from the caramel shoulders. Kuraime brought his left hand to the nape of the captain's neck; running his fingers through the silky, sweaty, white hair, his other arm snaking around the lean, tight waist draped over his own.

Gently pulling out of the man trapped beneath him, Toshirou gathered the strength to twist his body and lay himself beside the equally spent Kuchiki, pulling the lavender sheets up to cover their still trembling bodies.

Not a word was spoken as the two lay there, tangled in each others limbs, wrapped in silken sheets, still sticky and wet, and fell into a deep, dreamless slumber; neither truly considering what the morning might hold.

* * *

With the exception of that white bandage, he was all tan, smooth, and unspoiled skin, his flesh catching the first rays of sun peeking through the bedroom curtains as the young captain, perched on the sill, gazed at the younger shinigami that lay sprawled on the bed.

The silver-haired sleeper was bare in front of his teal eyes, a thin lavender sheet tangled in his lower limbs and bunched around his hips, revealing a lean, creamy tummy and a wide expanse of unblemished flesh, trembling in the coolness of the morning. Goosebumps freckled that unmarked skin as the now fully uniformed, snowy-haired tendo subconsciously reached out a lithe hand, trailing his lean fingers over the warm forearm of the dosing shinigami below him.

As his fingertips came to rest on the caramel-colored wrist, he allowed his mind to drift back to the previous night, images still vivid in his memory: The way those warm lips had done ridiculously sinful things to his body; the grace with which those lithe fingers had divested him, even through the wicked frenzy of lust; the way he had writhed beneath him as he had thrust wildly into him, feeling every inch of that unmarred flesh…

He was so much like his brother; that stone face, regal finesse, and hard eyes…yet he was so different. Beneath that façade, there was still a young man that was trying to find his way in the world and desperately needed someone to guide him.

But something stirred in the icy captain's heart as he thought back to the one that had set this whole charade into motion: that fiery-haired, mule-headed substitute shinigami that had completely held his heart. He still didn't completely understand why Ichigo had committed such an impetuous act; but it seemed to the turquoise-eyed prodigy that they were now even…but something in that intimate act with the Kuchiki was odd. It was so different from the "Strawberry's" confident touch, so much more tentatively shy and endearing, even beneath his façade of bravado and obvious experience.

That was when Toshirou was met with a very strange predicament: _What should I do now_…?

He had obviously broken his unspoken vow to himself and Ichigo that he would never have relations such as this with another, but the thing was that he would never have dreamed of even thinking of betraying that moral code if the Kurosaki boy had not pushed it so far. He knew that Ichigo would not be angered by this situation, having been the original culprit of infidelity with this 3rd Seat that still lay dreaming in bed.

The young ice-warrior knew why the Substitute had been so taken with the young 3rd Seat, having spent five blissful years with him himself, but Toshirou knew that he still couldn't understand why everything had turned out as it had, regardless of the uncanny connection the three of them shared.

So what was he to do now? Was he to go back to his division headquarters and pretend that nothing had happened, forgetting it and moving on from both of them? Was he to make that man before him swear never to speak of the previous night again, lying to his life-partner that nothing had occurred and carrying on? Was he to call a meeting between the three of them and attempt to sort out the now shattered pieces of he and Ichigo's former relationship and try to reincorporate this old flame into their 'nest'?

Or should he just slay himself with his own Hyourinmaru and eliminate all of his problems, sending himself back to the World of the Living and forgetting about everything?

The latter seemed the most appealing, though he knew it to be the least practical. He had too many people depending on him to commit seppuku over something so trite as his love life. His mind flew in ten different directions, searching for the best and least painful clue as to what action was now due to this catastrophic, sordid love-triangle.

Nothing made sense anymore; he didn't know how he could face either of them now. It wasn't ever that he allowed himself to be so manipulated to fall into the throws of passion with someone that wasn't his predetermined lover, a.k.a. Ichigo Kurosaki.

Something was definitely changing for him, and he didn't know how to handle it.

On one hand, he had his partner of two years – Ichigo Kurosaki. This young man was a ray of sunshine in his dark times, and the first year and a half of their relationship had been nothing but happiness and security – their lives meshing together with little work and much reward. Ichigo had always been a rock for him to grasp onto when things got a little too stressful for him, pulling him away from the darkness that crept at the corners of his subconscious and threatened to drive him mad.

The substitute shinigami had always known how to pull him out of a slump and help him to enjoy the simpler things of both worlds. Whenever they had managed to find time to steal away for a bit, Ichigo had never failed to deliver an amazing day – or night in some cases. He, with practiced ease, had somehow learned just what the icy captain needed to be satisfied and happy.

They were exact opposites, and this made them as compatible as they could ever dream to be. Where Toshirou was cold and stoic, Ichigo was warm and inviting. Where Ichigo was impulsive and free-spirited, Toshirou was patient and wise. Where one fell, the other lifted them up…and that was a beautiful thing to have.

But then there was the problem. On the other hand was his first love – Kuraime Kuchiki.

This Seiretei-born shinigami had gone from his worst enemy to the best thing that had ever happened to him in the span of a few years. What had started as a dojo rivalry had turned into a perfectly flawless relationship that showcased both the strengths and weaknesses of both men.

They were so much alike that it hadn't been hard to figure out what the other required to maintain a healthy and blissful relationship. Both were hard working, professional, and knew how to keep up appearances in the ranks. Neither was easily distracted, and both knew how to prioritize their lives to compensate for any lost time on missions or assignments.

Kuraime had studied him, long and hard, for the entire five years they were together. He had never once questioned Toshirou's intentions or required anything more than what the snowy captain had to offer – satisfied with whatever he was willing to give. In truth, they had fought endlessly about everything, even well into their relationship, both as stubborn as could be. But that too, had faded with time together, and compromise had been something that was, more often than not, chosen in its place.

It was true that his relationship with Ichigo had been much easier to fall into and understand than his previous one with Kuraime, but could he really say that it was because Ichigo was a better match? Or was it because he had already had five years of practice with someone that was so much like himself that it startled him – of which he didn't need to learn how to be there for another?

Even after all of this reverie, he wasn't one step closer to understanding what he should be doing – really; he was even deeper into confusion and indecision. He knew couldn't do this alone…

He squeezed his eyes shut and leaned back against the sill of the rectangular window, his hair ruffling in the icy winter breeze. Just as his mind was beginning to rest once more, the figure on the bed began to stir, starting to glide back into a hazy consciousness; the captain glancing down to watch him blink his sapphire eyes open blearily. Kuraime panned his vision to meet the form of the stoic captain, widening them in surprise, "You…you didn't leave."

The prodigy watched as the Kuchiki sat up in the ornate bed, the sheets dropping even lower, his oblique muscles rigid in the sunlight. Nodding his head softly, but firmly, he reverted his gaze back to the open window, staring out across the grove of sakura trees blowing in the cold morning air. A sad look spread over his porcelain face, eyes heavy with confusion and indecision as the Kuchiki wrapped his sheet around his waist and came to join him on the sill.

"Thank you…for last night. It means a lot to me," came the soft voice of the 3rd Seat, "But don't worry…I don't expect anything more of you. To tell you the truth, I didn't expect any of this to go so far. I'm very sorry for coming in between you and your partner, not only once, but twice now. I don't blame you if you don't want me in either of your lives anymore. It's only fair."

He was suddenly silenced by a scoff from the being across from him, the Captain's brows furrowed together in irritation, lids closed tightly over turquoise orbs, his arms crossed tensely over his chest, "Stop apologizing. I know you're sorry. I know you wish you could make it up to us. I know you expect some form of physical or emotional punishment for your 'crimes'. I understand that you have a bad case of self-loathing. Believe me…I get it. Now just shut up for a minute. I need to think."

The Kuchiki's eyes widened slightly before they relaxed in understanding. Even though the prodigy's voice relayed anger and spite, he knew that he was only confused and deep in thought about this entire situation. He had known the young captain long enough to tell that he was no longer enraged by the issue at hand; he just wanted to figure this all out.

Nodding slowly and standing from his position, Kuraime walked slowly over to the bathroom, picking up the abandoned articles of clothing and tossing them in the hamper by the sink. Opening the glass doors, he twisted the knob and started a hot shower, crossing over to the washbasin to gather his things before entering the steamy spray of liquid.

As the young Kuchiki began his shower, Toshirou stretched his legs out in front of him and placed his hands behind his head, resting himself against the sill once more. _What have I gotten myself into…? How am I going to fix this one_?

Just as his eyes began to close, his mind drifting through the many options he had once more, the sound of a key entering the bedroom door startled him back to reality. He barely had time to turn his head to the noise before the door slid open and the last person he wanted to see entered the silent bedroom.

He turned his head and allowed it to bang back against the wall in defeat as he was met with the cool expression of the current Head of the Kuchiki clan and captain of the 6th Division, Byakuya Kuchiki. The regally held shinigami took a few soundless steps into the room, sliding the door shut behind him, and quickly closing the distance between himself and the younger Captain.

Toshirou prepared himself for curses and the slice of that fatally beautiful rose-colored zanpakutou.

But it never came…

He opened his eyes to meet steel-grey orbs filled with concern and hidden worry.

"C-Captain Kuchiki…"

A firm, pale hand rose to silence the imminent excuses.

_Oh shit_…

"Before you say anything, Captain Hitsugaya, I would advise you not to apologize for anything that has occurred in the last 48 hours. None of this was a complete fault of yours and as such, should not be treated in such a manner."

Hitsugaya's eyes slid shut at the soft words, controlled and even as they reached his ears. His brows furrowed as he sensed sadness in the otherwise steady words. As he started falling into deep thoughts again, he ran his hand through his snow-white hair in a slightly irritated way, staring through the window to gaze harshly out at the quiet morning.

One remaining star was shining dimmly alone in the sky that was now lit with the glow of day. It had been a long time since he had enjoyed the morning's cold and silent air on those chilly days that he loved so much. He continued to gaze at the scenery even as he felt the Kuchiki's eyes bearing into him like steel.

Byakuya watched Toshiro as the smaller Captain gazed out to the early morning sky. The golden rays fell upon the young tendo, granting him a pale-but-princely aura, and the gravity-defying white hair glowed like snow reflecting sunlight.

It was different from the calm flakes that collected on the ground, but there was something so undeniably still about the moment. The noble didn't even realize the soft sigh escaping his lips; a breath that showed exasperation, understanding and a hollow feeling inside – an exhalation that fluttered with final realization of the situation.

It was clear to him now that the snowy Captain had somehow fallen right back into the hole he thought his heart had mended, and there was no denying it. It didn't matter why, when, or how it had happened because, regardless, the outcome would always have been the same.

Hitsugaya tore his eyes from the landscape and slowly turned to face the elder Kuchiki, feeling a thick pain in his chest that could only be described as emptiness. Suddenly, all the confusion and panic were gone, replaced by sadness, loneliness, an altogether miserable feeling.

He frowned deeply, pursing his lips as his brain twisted into tangles, _what the hell is wrong with me…?_

But before he could take that loathsome thought any further, Byakuya stood up and stepped over to stand beside him. Hitsugaya didn't even need to look at him to be able to see the purpose that was clearly present in those hard, grey eyes.

They stayed silent; neither looking at nor speaking to one another. The nerves on Hitsugaya's side were clearly visible on his features that usually wore a deep frown. Although his facade was clearly saying he would not speak any further of the previous subject, the Kuchiki looked down at him and cleared his throat softly. Although it wasn't the hard and scowling face that he was accustomed to, seeing Toshirou losing his cool below that hard mask of ice was something that he never thought he would have the opportunity to witness again.

Hitsugaya was now thoroughly sunken into his seat, shoulders slumping slightly at the tension that knotted beneath them. A foreign despair leaked through his nerves as quickly as he could draw his zanpakutou.

"I've always been alone, even when surrounded by friends. It's something that I have grown accustomed to, even prefer at times. But I know something now, which I didn't back then…"

There was a pale and sallow silence that was sick with fear and exhaustion, but neither of the two shinigami flinched at the weight of it around them. Instead, the dark-haired noble bowed his head slightly, angling his face to catch the teal eyes of the prodigy, "What might this epiphany be…?"

Toshirou couldn't help but shiver at the baritone inquiry, heavy with something that sounded suspiciously like an unspoken understanding and confirmation that which had yet to be touched upon.

"…I, more than anyone else, deserve it – this screwed up situation. Because of the way that I have treated Ichigo, who in the past has been nothing but good to me, I deserve to be alone and unhappy. Because of the way that I completely cast Kuraime aside, and the nasty ways that I addressed and disrespected him with bitterness…I deserve this misfortune."

He nearly jumped when he felt a light weight as the lean, pale fingers of the elder Kuchiki rested softly on his right shoulder, lying motionlessly against the thick fabric of his haori. That silky voice reached his ears once more; only this time quick to question and prod at newly opened wounds.

"Captain Hitsugaya, I know that you have never been one to require a counselor, nor have I ever truly been the type to offer assistance on a personal level…but I can't help but wonder why you feel so much loathing toward yourself for deciding to move on those years ago. You were well within your rights; my brother had chosen family over you. So why is this still affecting you in such a way?"

The reply was quicker than he had anticipated he could deliver, as if his brain had decided to take a hike and let his heart stand in for it while it was away.

"Because I still care about him! Dammit…I've tried! I've tried, and tried, and tried for years to erase him from my thoughts and be rid of all memory of him. But somehow, after all of the bullshit and emotional agony…I still care."

This statement, wrought with honestly and agony simultaneously, was all that remained. The taller man nodded his head once for good measure, a silent testament to his respect and understanding of the man before him.

"Then why don't you tell them…?"

Okay, so that single inquiry had blown away any power that Toshirou's last statement had managed to collect for himself, and he felt somewhat foolish for speaking so plainly.

"Honestly, I can't comprehend how either of them could want me. It doesn't make sense to me at all. First I'm not adequate enough, then I'm cold and unfeeling, I continually treat a respectable shinigami like dirt, and ultimately I can't seem to keep my heart in one place…where it belongs."

…_**TBC**_…


	11. Phenomenon

Rating: R/MA

Warning: Strong Sexual Content, Language, and Violence

Characters in Chapter: Ichigo, Toshirou, Rangiku

Current Song Stuck in Head: Three Cheers for Five Years – Mayday Parade

* * *

**Chapter Eleven**: Phenomenon

* * *

…_**Three Days Later…**_

He woke into a bleary consciousness to the irritating sound of something tapping on glass…the pane of his bedroom window in particular. Squeezing his brows together to combat the sting of sleep from his eyes, he rubbed his face violently through the pillow, shaking the mist from his vision.

"The hell…?"

He sat slowly, peering over his headboard to catch a glimpse of strawberry blonde just before that incessant tapping began once more. Sighing deeply, he stood from his mattress, grabbing a clean blue t-shirt from the nightstand, and padding over to the single window.

Pulling the garment over his head and sliding his arms into the cap-sleeves, the carrot-top pulled the latch and pressed forward on the glass to push the window open, allowing the object of his annoyance into the silent room.

His quarters weren't much, just a small bedroom with a few pieces of furniture, grey-scale carpet, and a ceiling fan…and that one, solitary window.

Facing the intruder with tired whiskey eyes, he was surprised to see that the buxom strawberry-blonde was in gigai form, dressed in a pale yellow sundress with white polka dots and bright red flats. Her hair was pinned up in a French-twist and a matching pair of cherry-red sunglasses rested on the top. Her nails were freshly manicured – her makeup flawless, and she had on her arm a large tote bag filled with God only knew what.

She was quite a vision to be assaulted by at…dear God, was it 4 in the afternoon?

"Ichigo! It's time to get up. I have a full evening planned for you, so I hope you don't mind."

He blinked at her incredulously for a few moments, letting the words sink in, hoping they would make a little more sense upon recollection…but alas.

"Huh?"

Sighing dramatically, she set her bag on the floor, prancing briskly to his closet before he could protest, and swinging the door open. After shifting through the rack of clothing for a few moments, she seemed to come to a decision and tossed a few articles of clothing onto the messy bed. "Here, put these on. We're going out to a movie and to dinner. It's time to get you out of this room. Studying too much is bad for anyone, and I assume you know the material by now anyway. So snap to it!"

Shaking his head in disbelief, he complied, knowing that it was better just to obey the woman than to try to stand around and argue in circles with her. Reaching for the clothes, he studied what she had selected: A pair of faded, but neat blue jeans that slung low on his hips, a pair of low-top black and white converse chucks, a neon orange t-shirt with the yellow word 'Otaku', and a black fitted blazer.

Raising a ginger brow, he blinked a few more times, and headed for the bathroom, deciding it best not to question.

It didn't take but a moment to call after him, "I'll be waiting in the foyer!"

* * *

As the night was winding down, the sun beginning to hang heavily in the sky, begging to be put to rest, the approaching darkness found the duo perched on the ledge of an abandoned water tower at the edge of the substitute's neighborhood. The wind was gentle and mild, ruffling through their equally vibrant hair as they sat in companionable silence.

It was the college student that eventually broke the quiet, sighing deeply while running a hand through his orange hair, "So, Rangiku…what was the real reason you came out here? I know it wasn't to make small talk and waste your money on a shitty chick-flick, so out with it."

Apparently deciding that the whole 'I'm offended that you would even question me! Can't a woman visit an old friend every now and again in peace?" act was going to be merely a waste of breath; the older woman nodded her head in agreement. "You know I worry about you. These last few days have been trying for everyone involved, and I can't imagine being on your or the Captain's end."

The silence hung once more, calm but tense simultaneously, until she spoke once more, "I don't like to see anyone that I care about hurt. And…I just thought that you might want a little insight into what is probably going on inside your boyfriend's head…am I correct?"

Ichigo blinked for a moment, trying to process everything that was said, "Uh, okay…so you are saying that, like usual, you know something that I don't know?"

She nodded.

"And you're going to tell me, right?"

Another nod.

"Okay…shoot."

"He loves you, Ichigo."

Well, that wasn't exactly what he was expecting to hear, but fair enough. This had to start somewhere. "Okay, I'm glad that he still does. Now tell me something that I don't already know."

"He's also in love with Kuraime."

Okay, now that was…a mind-fuck. "Um…what?"

Rangiku was quick to respond, her senses saying that silence was not something that would fair well in this new twist of conversation, "He is in love with both of you. Though, he only just realized it, it's something that is undeniable even to my eyes."

Ichigo felt his chest tightening in fear and disbelief, "But…how do you know?"

This time she sighed, seeming suddenly uncomfortable and awkward about the direction this discussion was headed, "Well, last night…some things changed a bit in the 10th Division."

Ichigo's eyes widened in concern, "Wait…what the hell happened? Did he get hurt? Is he okay?!…Is Kuraime okay?"

A raised hand barely contained his outburst from turning into a complete tirade, "No need to worry. I've spoken with Captain Kuchiki; Kuraime was fairly injured but Hitsugaya took care of it. Both are alive…"

Ichigo's muscles tensed, "But…? That sounds a lot like there is a 'but' in there somewhere, and I don't like 'but's. Spill…"

He could see the hesitation in her manner, the way that she subconsciously played with the rogue loose thread that hung from the edge of her skirt hem. Her eyes were trying so hard not to meet his own, and it was scaring the hell out of him, "Rangiku…?"

Pale blue orbs, filled with remorse and apology stared back at him, ultimately; that look that meant whatever she had to tell him was not going to be something he wanted to hear. He blinked a few times, swallowing the lump that was forming in his throat, and listened to her soft tone.

"Well…apparently my Captain and the young Kuchiki had quite a fight in the dojo. I became worried after our conversation that night, and I decided that I would go check up on them myself, having not heard any word…"

Her voice was falling ever softer as the story unfolded, "I ran into Captain Kuchiki en route to the mansion, assuming that was where they had gone to have it out, since that was where the entire ordeal had started nearly a decade ago."

She reached a trembling hand out to the nervous substitute, squeezing his knee gently, as if trying to apologize for what she was going to say next.

"He told me to return to my barracks…that I was not going to be required until called upon," she sighed softly, steeling herself and bating her breath the gather her nerve.

Ichigo could feel his heart hammering in his chest, threatening to burst forth and end his life. What could possibly have happened that was so heinous that Matsumoto herself was frightened at the aspect of relaying the information?

"I did as I was commanded…but Captain never came home that night. In fact, I didn't see him until late the next afternoon, even. Take it for what it's worth, but I am pretty sure I know what transpired…I'm so sorry, Ichigo."

There was a heavy, stunned silence blanketing the area in tension once more, only this time, there was nothing that cold be said or done that would hold any shred of hope to lighten the mood. After blinking a few times and allowing the dread to seep to the very core of his brain, settling into every nook and crevice, Ichigo hung his head and closed his brandy-colored eyes.

"I guess I shouldn't be surprised…it's nothing more than I deserve."

Such blatant and potent defeat resounded in his voice, the tension in his shoulders sinking into the pit of his stomach and pulling his frame into a tired slouch over the railing before him. _Oh, what I would do for a bottle of sake right about now_…

"So, does that look mean that we can go back to your place and get completely shit-faced?"

At the blunt and honest inquiry of the sultry shinigami, Ichigo could not contain the chuckle that threatened to break past his frown. He knew that there was nothing he could do at this point but take her up on her offer and wait until the morning to head to Soul Society and deal with this in the only way that he knew how to: Address the problem and try to work through it.

"Heh…I think that sounds brilliant."

Though the laugh met his lips, rolling off of his tongue like velvet and flowing into the air, the smile never quite reached his eyes, and at that moment…he was fairly certain he understood that lack of fire in Kuraime's eyes that night at the bar.

_So this is what if feel like to be used… It really sucks._

* * *

Three sake bottles and a chocolate-vanilla ice cream cake later, the two redhead's brains were thoroughly soaked. There had been much talk about the theories and assumptions of the icy Captain and young Kuchiki, but nothing of value had been accomplished and not questions had been answered.

Taking a final swig from the fourth sake bottle, the Vice Captain sighed heavily, wiping her mouth on the back of her narrow wrist, "You know, Ichigo…I think that he did this for both of you, in a way."

The new bottle stopped mere millimeters from its destination on the substitute's slightly chapped lips, "Uh…what the hell? I don't see how that makes any sense, Rangiku."

But she was not deterred, merely taking the bottle from him and taking a large gulp, "Call me crazy if you'd like, but I know my Captain, and when he loves someone…or more than one someone in this case, he does what he needs to do in order to maintain a balance and peace with that person…or persons. I think that there is probably more to this than initially meets the eye."

Swimming through his muddled mind, heavy with intoxication, Ichigo couldn't help but feel somewhat lost in the conversation. What did she mean…?

Then there was a moment of clarity, peering out from behind the haze of alcohol and depression, and it was enough to focus a few thoughts to confirm and provide a satisfactory response.

"So…all of this – this pain, this frustration, this cheating, and this deceit – it's all because he wants to be…equal?"

A small, but sure nod was his indirect answer, "Indeed, Ichigo. I believe that my Captain has grown fond of you over the last few years…but he has been battling with these long suppressed feelings for his first love as well. God, I should have seen the signs earlier…well, I should have _decoded_ them earlier, actually."

Ichigo could feel his heart constricting in his chest, his breath becoming shallower as he fought not to let that resounding dread pierce into his consciousness, "But, then…does that mean that…he's gonna leave us both? I mean, both of us pretty much deserve it after the things we've done…but I guess I just hoped –"

A conk to the temple was enough to silence his words and replace them with a startled cry. Staring with wide eyes at the Vice Captain before him, he couldn't help but wonder what the hell had just happened. "W-What the hell?!"

A heavy sigh escaped the busty woman as she studied her nails to make sure she hadn't damaged any, "Goodness, Ichigo, don't you know it's rude to interrupt before the thought is complete? Shame… Now, as I was saying…"

* * *

Though his mind was weary and his body utterly exhausted, he couldn't muster up the nerve to turn in early for the night. Be it out of habit or be it from extenuating circumstances, he didn't rightly know, but what he _did_ know was that he needed to finish this stack of papers before he could do anything else.

He knew that it was well past midnight by now, the moon hung high in the night sky through his office window, and he couldn't help but wonder just what the hell he had gotten himself into and why he hadn't yet properly dealt with it.

One part of him wanted to just leave the room, extinguish the candles and lanterns, and retreat to his quarters where he could sink into his sheets and do his best to let exhaustion and oblivion overtake him. The other part knew that running away to his bed like a whining child was not going to solve anything, nor would it actually succeed in making him feel even a stitch better.

The physical wounds were well on their way to being completely healed, but the emotional pains were far from over, intensifying with every night that he lay in bed alone, wondering what the best course of actions would be.

* * *

He knew what he was supposed to do, and he understood the situation as perfectly as he could be expected to under the specific circumstances. Matsumoto had done a fine job of explaining it all to him, feeding him the right things to consider that led to a deeper understanding of the situation.

As much as he hated to admit that the buxom redhead was correct about something for once, he knew in his mind and in his heart that she spoke with a wisdom that only came with experience and familiarity. If anyone knew Toshirou better than Ichigo, it was Rangiku Matsumoto.

As he silently thanked her for making this situation that much clearer, he found himself with his palm to the all too familiar door before him. This was the door that would make or break his heart and soul; that would show him the truth behind all of the half-lies he had been fed throughout the last five years.

This was a moment that he had prepared himself for in the last few hours, making sure he understood the entire story, and formulating a resolution that would reveal everything that he needed to know while somehow managing to mend that which was previously broken. Hopefully, it would even break down walls that had never been removed and seal old wounds that had never managed to completely heal.

Steeling himself for the battle he knew was fast approaching, Ichigo took a deep breath and pushed the sliding door open with a force that jarred the threshold.

* * *

A snowy head shot up from his paperwork, the iridescent strands dancing in the moonlight like spider's silk waving in the midnight breeze. Hard, turquoise eyes locked onto the approaching figure that dared to enter his office without so much as a knock or announcement; and the sight that met his eyes threw him slightly off kilter.

There, standing before him tense with an unknown sensation and whiskey-colored eyes glaring like lasers, was the last person that he expected to see at this hour and under these circumstances.

Blinking a few times to recollect his thoughts, the icy shinigami Captain reverted his eyes to the papers, suddenly filled with a shame that he didn't know he was even capable of feeling. He knew his reasons, but somehow that wasn't enough to calm his nerves and quiet his anxieties…and it definitely didn't make it in any way, shape, or form –acceptable.

"We need to talk, Toshirou…and I am pretty sure that you know what about."

Well, this was certainly not unexpected. In truth, it had only been a matter of time, in his mind, before the carrot-top caught wind of something sordid afoot. But, it had happened a bit sooner than he had planned, not giving him a chance to deal with it maturely and confront the substitute personally. He could only imagine from whom the boy had heard about it from…

"What made you do it, Toshirou? Was it the adrenaline from the fight? The temptation of another similar to myself in form? A way to get back at me for some drunken night of oblivion?"

Each word stung more than the last as it reached the Captain's ears, sending shivers of self-disgust rolling down his spine to settle in the pit of his stomach. None of the answers actually hit the mark, but now was not the time to focus on that little detail. This was not how this was supposed to be…but who was he kidding? He had brought this upon himself and now it was time to face the music.

But he would not let it show – would not let a single twitch, crease, or wince touch his face nor a tremble taint his hand. If the only thing he had left was his pride as an officer, then that was what he was going to cling to for as long as he could.

Faced with the lingering silence on the tendo's end, Ichigo took a ragged breath and sighed, closing his eyes for a moment before parting his lips to hitched breath.

"So what does this mean…for us?" was the soft question that drifted from the substitute Shinigami's lips like a deadly whisper.

His lids rose and his honey orbs pierced like daggers as the smaller shinigami rose from his seat, emotion absent from his features as always. "Good god, Toshirou, what are we supposed to do now? All we have done is hurt each other. So where does that leave us?"

He was met with silence as the icy captain slammed the office door shut and locked it tightly. Any other night, Ichigo would have just ignored the fact that Hitsugaya seemed disinterested and aloof, but tonight he was really trying a new tactic and something in him finally snapped, "Fuck, Toshirou! Godammit, listen to me!"

Oh, he was listening…and he responded in earnest at a volume almost equal to Ichigo's previous words, though his tone was restrained and deadly serious, "There you go again, raising your voice as you always do. I can hear you! You are loud, rude, and unnecessarily violent…you always are."

The words were heavy in the air and they stunned the substitute into silence, his eyes widening at the sudden and uncanny outburst of the frosty shinigami. _ Well, that was unexpected_…

He opened his mouth to attempt to stutter out a rebuttal, but the Captain beat him to it, his words piercing into the carrot-top's heart with a new kind of sting.

"And – somehow…I like it this way."

Those few small words caused Ichigo's heart to skip a beat, a tightness forming in his chest as he felt a large lump begin to constrict its way into his throat. _Wait_…_is he actually opening up…is he actually making this easier for me?_ He tried to catch his breath, but Toshirou's next words only succeeded in stunning him further.

"I-I don't know why, but just being near you makes everything feel–lighter…I seem to think less when you're around. Maybe it's because I can't focus on certain things because your overwhelming presence takes nearly all of my conscious attention."

Ichigo could feel a burning beginning between his temples as a new emotion flooded his body, one that he was no stranger to…but he bit it down and tried to keep it at bay, willing it to leave and fighting in his mind to not speak out and blow his cover too soon. _No, he needs to at least learn something from this, even if I'm the one that was wrong_. But Hitsugaya continued…and his resolve began to crumble.

"I remember – that first night that we really decided to try to make this work with each other. Y-you told me that even though you loved your friends and family, and even though your life back home was so important to you…you felt that something was still missing – something that you couldn't figure out until then."

Ichigo's heart felt like it was melting. He couldn't believe that Toshirou was actually saying these things…that he actually remembered any of this stuff. He began to feel slightly ashamed at playing games with the Captain and decided that it was time to do something about it. But before he could say what he wanted to say, Toshirou continued, causing his chest to pull even tighter at the words.

"I, to this day, have still asked myself how you could have the resolve to try to make something happen with someone as unmoving and dispassionate as me, because even though everyone has told me why, I still could not grasp it, could not comprehend it. But after everything that has happened in these past few days, and the emotions that I have felt that I didn't even know I was even capable of experiencing…I finally understood.

The silence lasted but a moment before Ichigo, moisture stinging at the back of his eyes, threatening to tear emotion out of him, managed to breathily muster up the answer himself, his intentions clearer than ever before.

"It was because, even though we are complete opposites…we are exactly alike."

He allowed himself a breath as he stood from his spot on the couch, fists clenched in an effort to restrain his shaky breath.

"That was the only reason…not your rank…or your power…no matter what you said, I knew that there was something between us that I couldn't find anywhere else – something that only you could give me."

Taking a deep breath and coming to stand behind his lover, he wrapped a long, strong arm around Toshirou's shoulders, embracing him tightly from behind, feeling the trembling ice-captain against his now determined form, finally revealing himself and his true intentions.

"I know about what you went through to try to help Kuraime: the pain you endured to make sure that he didn't have to live a life filled with self-loathing and unrequited emotions for something that was only damaging to him; the irreversible damage that you inflicted upon yourself so that he could have a chance at realizing who he really was; and the insanity that threatens to consume you every moment for the transgressions that you feel you have committed against me in helping him realize that he is worth something more than an inviting body and a powerful weapon against evil; the agony that you have to stomach every time you look at him and relive your past, because you wanted both him and me to be able to move forward and shed our guilt. And you know what…?"

He felt his lover stiffen against him, his muscles tight with both apprehension and the violent emotions tearing to be let free. Ichigo leaned his face down, burying it in the snowy hair, inhaling the scent of fresh vanilla and jasmine.

"I'm not angry. I forgive it all and thank you for it even, because you did that for me. You did all of that for us, not concerned with how your end of the deal would turn out. I owe you my greatest appreciation; because you sacrificed, giving of yourself not only for him, but for my peace of mind as well – because you copied my actions, though your intentions were far more pure, I don't have to feel quite so guilty anymore…I am more than grateful to you for that. I am indebted."

He could feel the trembling return to the smaller body in his arms, and he felt something warm and wet drip onto his wrists that were crossed beneath the hanging head of white spikes. His heart nearly ripped in two at the sight of his precious dragon falling apart in front of him, something that he had only witnessed one other time and wished he never had to see again. He buried his face in that hair once more, tightening his grip to try to comfort the Captain, allowing them to sink to their knees on the immaculate floor.

"That is why I cannot let you take on all of this pain by yourself. That is why I have to walk down this path with you and show you that now, more than ever, I want to spend this life and beyond learning how to live with you…how to love you properly. I refuse to let you down, because you have done too much for me."

He was crying as well now, hot tears streaming down his own face and sliding into the white hair below. His heart was so full and so tight with love and respect for this man in his arms that he felt he would explode at any moment.

The frosty shinigami could feel the tremors that coursed through the larger Shinigami's body as he fought back sobs, his own salty tears dripping to the floor below as his body curve inward, his hands coming to grasp the forearm across his chest to ground himself.

"I feel…warm, Ichigo. I never feel warm…always just an icy cold. I want to keep feeling that warmth; I don't want you to hold back anymore. I don't want you to be afraid of reaching out to me, because you fill me with so much strength…so much passion and purpose that I never thought I had before. You have to keep faith in me…for both of our sakes. Don't give up on me; stay with me. Because even when I may lose sight of us…or when I just can't seem to understand what we are trying to do – I'll be right here beside you…"

Those words, so simple and so honest – created a bond between them that wasn't there before: one that was so much stronger and so much clearer. Those words were nearly surreal in their majesty, because words like that couldn't have been pried from Toshirou's lips before, because he had never been a talker. But kisses could be. The hard, hungry kisses that he twisted in the warm grasp and ravaged Ichigo's mouth with, dragging the substitute to the floor with him to give him a little more leverage, a little more control, but refusing to relinquish that extra contact, arm still pressing Ichigo tight against him.

A callused hand found his own smaller and softer one, clutching it wildly, fingers weaving together. Toshirou brought his free hand up to grasp at the carrot-top's broad back, nails digging into the coarse black fabric of his robes; he drew in a deep, shuddering breath as Ichigo's unnaturally hot mouth closed over the tendon in his throat as the substitute wedged a knee gently between his thighs.

Ichigo's head began to swim; he felt nearly lightheaded as strong fingers buried in his hair and pulled on it, angling both their mouths and pushing the kiss deeper. He pushed back, hearing a soft thump as Toshirou's head connected with the floor below. The sound of cloth ripping echoed through the office as the Captain felt his obi sash give way, a testament to the fervor that currently emanated from the man above him. Toshirou's long, lean legs wrapped around the substitute; blunt teeth sank into the tan flesh of Ichigo's neck.

The carrot-top's hands ran up and over the slender waist beneath him, pushing the heavy fabric out of the way, exposing the flushed skin and a now heaving chest. He licked gently over the flat stomach and dipped his tongue into the curves of the taut muscles there, the soft sighs from the man below him encouraging in further. He crawled up the lean body and licked at parted lips, slanting his mouth over them and sealing them together in a heated kiss, bringing their lower bodies flush against each other and rocking their arousals together, building a delicious friction. He parted the knees below him, slipping the black hakama pants down the slender legs, brushing softly against the now heated flesh of the icy captain's thighs.

Their breaths washed over each other, heating the others skin with a humid air. Toshirou's fingers curled around Ichigo's robes, silently begging for removal, and Ichigo was not one to disappoint the smaller shinigami, quickly divesting himself, clothes thrown into a corner to be forgotten. His lips surged to the frosty captain's throat, nipping and sliding his tongue up the side of his sensitive neck, pulling him closer and urging him to make further contact.

Returning his mouth to Ichigo's, Hitsugaya fumbled to remove his robes, leaving them beneath him on the hard floor, removing his arms from the holes and winding them around the younger man above him.

Toshirou's mouth was wet and demanding, body tight to the substitute, shifting with every breath. Then Hitsugaya was hanging onto him with one arm, arching his back enough to wiggle a hand down between them, shoving his fingers past Ichigo's hips. "Shit…" the carrot-top hissed incoherently, biting back a groan as those long fingers curled around him, idly tracing the line of the purple vein and plunging down without warning to firmly stroke the base, pumping him hard to the rhythm of their hips grinding against each other.

Ichigo moaned quietly into the other's mouth, thrusting the tongue back with his own, weaving his fingers back into the frosty silver spikes, tugging slightly but not hard enough to break the contact between their lips.

This was more than he'd dreamed of; he hadn't even imagined how searing, how... how fucking good Toshirou's touch would really feel to experience again. Infinitely more satisfying than late-night jacking off and drunken romps in the sheets that fucked everything over. There was no more fear; there was no more lying…

Sucking at the captain's invading tongue, hands pressed up Hitsugaya's back, pressing his front to Ichigo's with a demanding purpose; all heat and taste and wandering fingers, unable to touch enough at once, but begging to be able to. He was drowning in his icy dragon and demanding more, breathing, drinking, and swallowing his presence.

The carrot-top's teeth were biting his lips, his tongue, and fingers were grasping at his flesh, taking everything roughly, forcefully as though afraid that at any moment Hitsugaya would change his mind, and pull away with a sudden change of heart.

Those rough hands wandered over lean muscles and ribs as though they had to take everything in, touch every inch before they lost the chance; and Hitsugaya's skin sparked, hummed, and burned at every touch, as though every inch of flesh that Ichigo laid his fingers to was now marked, branded with sensation that would not be forgotten soon, if ever.

The tendo's own hands reached around the substitute's neck and splayed across the firm muscles of his shoulders, feeling the muscles ripple beneath, rememorizing every touch. As long, slender fingers entered him, pushing past that initial ring of discomfort, he sighed into a tan shoulder, nuzzling his nose into the junction at his neck.

The digits weren't there for long, and the icy Captain soon felt the desperate nudge of something much larger and fuller at his entrance only moments before it shoved in slowly, yet deeply, filling him with a heat so needy that he felt himself pulsing slightly at the mixed sensations.

Just as he felt himself going light-headed with pleasure, haunting words, so familiar and yet so unexpected reached his humming ears, sending shockwaves of both fear and excitement down his spine, reminding him of an inevitable point of future conversation.

"Stay, please…"

…_**TBC**_…


	12. Predestination

Rating: PG-13

Warning: language, yaoi, mild sexual content…(The first part in italics is stolen from one of my ZoSan fictions, but I just thought it fit so perfectly, so I couldn't resist)

Characters: Kuraime, Ichigo, Toshirou

**A/N**: I wanted to apologize for the mini-hiatus I took for the last few weeks. I had a death in the family and all of my college exams hit me at the same time, so I was a bit pressed to finish this chapter. I know that it is short, but the next one is already well underway, and we are rounding out the end of this story fairly soon. I would venture to say about 2-3 more chapters to completion. I just wanted to say thank you to everyone that has read and reviewed, as well as the people that are waiting patiently for the updates. Y'all have been great! Special thanks to Kuraime-Zhen for being forgiving of my delays and supportive of this fiction.

* * *

~***Predestination***~

* * *

_Blackness – a piercing darkness that smothered his sight and plunged him into a world of night and bleak uncertainty. Clawing at the edge of his senses, his breath was failing him, threatening to leave him entirely in this abyss of fear and anxiety._

_Voice – a hushed but eerie whisper in his ear, cackling laughs of ill-intent setting worry deep within his tortured mind. Something foul was drawing near, and he was powerless to oppose it, merely a prisoner in his own unconsciousness._

_Pain – a searing, aching, burning tear that ripped through his subconscious, pulling silent screams of frustration and pleas for absolution from his phantom lips. A new agony wrought from dark memories of a life he could have saved – a friend he was forced to witness rot away and fade before his sapphire-blue eyes, wide with flooded reverie and anguish._

_But then that too was fading away…_

An unanticipated relief washed over in the manifestation of blessed consciousness when a loud roll of laughter reached his sensitive ears, breaking the illusion. He was met by the biting cold of the wind and the sounds of friendly chatter and merriment from beyond the walls of his quarters. Though the sounds were warm and inviting, the future Captain couldn't help but feel an aching chill in the core of his being.

Even the night was freezing around the solitary shinigami in the lonely bedroom. The other Kuchiki's were having a small cocktail party in the sitting area down the hall, but the silver-haired 3rd Seat couldn't bring himself to join in on the festivities. Kuraime sat up from where he'd been sleeping on the soft mattress and pulled on his shinigami top with a muttered curse, rubbing his arms in a vain attempt at relieving himself of the goose bumps.

He was too cold to be particularly interested or impressed in the moments that followed in which he half-heartedly waited and listened to the padding of the nobles and guest's feet outside of his door as they began to say their goodbyes and return to their quarters.

His mind was so full, bursting over with thoughts of the previous week and how his life had basically been turned completely upside down. And through his frustration and stress, he managed to focus on something that he had long forgotten…a conversation with a certain adopted sister of his.

Long ago, Rukia had taught him something; not about being a shinigami, but about love. It was right after his first kiss with the Captain of the 10th Division, right after the first time someone had given him _that_ look and had pressed against him with a passion he was unfamiliar with.

She had said not to rush things; that devotion could take a fairly long time to set in, and not to take the first shows of affection without watching and observing for a while. She had also said that your first love always stays with you in a special part of your heart – so he had better choose him or her wisely.

He had waved off the advice at the time, being too young and hormonal to even worry about waiting, but now it haunted him, somewhere in the recesses of his mind – lurking somewhere deep in his subconscious.

Part of him—the part that was there at night behind a locked bedroom door with quick, strangled breaths and hurried strokes beneath the sheets—hated that he couldn't find a single person that compared to his first love…until a certain carrot-top had fallen into his arms and showed him something he had forgotten he could have – friendship and understanding – someone to just _talk_ to him.

But the other part—the part that lived for reclaiming what was once a beautiful life, that lived for meeting each harsh bite of chopped words and challenging stares, that lived for the briefest brushes of contact at convocations and business settings—knew that it was not so simple of a choice to make with his heart.

Kuraime was a man who rarely hesitated, going to great lengths to be sure of himself and of his choices before making them. He thought ahead so that when he came to a crucial decision, he knew exactly which option to choose. There were some exceptions, though; usually anything that came with the last five years of his life… But, for the most part, Kuraime _was definitely_ a man who didn't hesitate.

But now he found himself laying there, tucked beneath the silken sheets, torn between his past and future – stuck in a battle with himself over issues that were supposed to have been long since resolved and moved past. The one true challenge that he saw was the frosty shinigami that he had never quite been able to figure out.

Toshirou was an enigma; he knew next-to-nothing about his past and very few details of his present, none of which were pleasant. And yet it was that air of mystery that had sparked his interest and lured him into the man in the first place. The icy Captain himself seemed an uncomfortable fit for his chosen profession, but he wasn't empty and he wasn't truly cold on the inside.

He knew that he was still completely smitten with him. He _also_ knew that the ice prince was too good for him. He knew he needed to do some soul searching before he, in any way, deserved to be with either of the two men he was mulling over…but he also knew that he was in an extremely precarious position as well.

He was ready to try again – ready to face whatever he needed to in order to be able to have a chance at the happiness that he had once tasted…what felt so long ago. He was ready to accept whatever challenges he must, but he was still afraid; afraid that even though he was ready and able to give his entire heart up for this chance, that somehow he would fall short or be cast aside and mocked for his insistence.

He didn't like not being in control of the situation, but he liked feeling alone even less. Somehow, compared to the last week, the last five years didn't seem quiet so terrible. This was probably the most stressful situation that he had been in since he had lost his wife. Though, he was utterly ashamed to admit that there was almost an aura of relief surrounding him, and it disgusted him.

He knew that he shouldn't be feeling positive about losing his marriage in any way…but he couldn't help but wonder if it wouldn't have ended at some point anyway. He was attracted to men, after all, and that had always been a major issue to keep away from his wife's prying eyes.

As painful as this situation was and as much as he wanted to lie awake all night and ponder his next course of action, he knew that this night – of all nights – was not one that he should be slacking on rest. This was his last chance at redemption and his final swan song for his future. Two events that had no parallel were occurring and he was as prepared as he had the chance of being.

Tomorrow…he would speak to Toshirou.

Tomorrow…he would become Captain of the 3rd Division.

* * *

His turquoise eyes peeled slowly open to meet streams of silver moonlight dancing over tan flesh above him, bathing the room in a soft glow. Whatever dreams may have been were now fleeing briskly, his mind focused now on the heavy heat that rested against his lower abdomen; orange threads tickling at his sensitive flesh, tender from exhaustion and over-stimulation. Shifting his narrow hips gently to relieve the numbness in his legs, he felt the mass upon him hum in a half-conscious state, lifting its head slowly to blink blearily at him.

"Toshirou…?" was the soft voice – gruff from sleep, "You awake?"

"Mhmm…" he whispered gently, casting a soft glance at the carrot-top, "I'm awake."

With a small thump against the creamy flesh of the Captain's abdomen, the substitute shinigami yawned lazily and stretched the rippling muscles in his back to rid himself of the mild discomfort at having slept in such an awkward position. Lifting his chin once more, he locked eyes with the smaller man, sliding a strong hand up his lean hip to lace his fingers with the Captain's.

The younger man's hands were surprisingly careful when he took Toshirou's hand without a word and all but cradled the pale, precious hand in his own. With his touch light, he ran his fingertips over the frosty man's palm; his brow set intensely as he watched his own fingers work. He traced out the lines on the smaller palm and lingered where he found rough, hard calluses – across the arch and along the index finger, at the base of the knuckles… Not all that different from some of the hardness worn into his own hands. These symbols of battle and strength came naturally and involuntarily to the icy shinigami, and formed a link between the two that – though not necessarily a unique similarity – managed to harden the bond that had already existed.

The silence, though heavy, was endearing and thick with an unspoken devotion – the kind that only came from enduring loss and hardship – the kind that brought them closer together when they thought they would only be torn apart.

Staring into each other's eyes, neither shinigami could conjure up the nerve to break that sacred quiet – that ethereal stillness that covered them in a silent peace. There was something to be said for falling in love and there was something completely different to be said for staying in it. _Through good times and bad…isn't that what they say_?

Hitsugaya reached his other hand to cup the tan cheek before him, running lithe fingers through baby-soft hair, slightly matted from sweat and humidity. "Ichigo…?"

A small grunt of surprise was all he received in reply as those big amber eyes locked onto his own, still heavy with sleep and the remaining vestiges of anxiety. Taking a deep breath, the frosty Captain closed his teal gaze and dropped his head back to rest on the arm of the sofa, "You know I love you, right?"

There was a pregnant silence, so full that the smaller shinigami couldn't tell if it was thick with the younger man's indecision or with his own anxious fear. As the powerful hand tightened around his own, he could only pray that it was a sign of agreement, not a comfort in the presence of rejection. He didn't have to wait long for his answer, for the substitute was moving before he even realized it.

Long, strong arms wrapped around his shoulders, crushing him into the broad chest of the now seated, and still very naked substitute, wrapped only in the thin fabric of the mint-green blanket that had taken up permanent residence on the arm of the usually Vice-Captain-occupied sofa. The gentle material tickled the back of the icy Captain's thighs like soft feathers, leaving small goose bumps in its wake.

The feeling of the soft, yet hard flesh of the substitute slid effortlessly against the pale skin of the ice-wielder like cutting margarine; the sensation of sleep-warmth radiating from the younger shinigami like sunlight through the cold night. Heated lips like fire found the cool petals of elder with a tenderness that contradicted the firm embrace that seemed as if it was a clutch of desperation.

Those decadent lips trailed molten strokes against the colder ones, and Toshirou swore he could feel steam rising from their coupling; moisture clinging to their now glistening flesh as the joint temperature steadily rose with the battling of sensations. Those sinfully sweet petals devoured his own with a passion that he had only been familiar with in the distant past – a time when passion and carnal need was all that he had.

From the very start, his and Ichigo's relationship had been a rocky road, filled with crests and troughs of progress; but somehow, through all of the ups and downs, they had managed to maintain a fairly comfortable companionship.

As those lips captured his own for the next uncountable time, he realized that any fears he had gathered that Ichigo might have been nothing more than a replacement for his lost lover, faded quickly from his mind. The feeling that flooded from the younger male to himself was one of devotion and relief – a desperate display of gratitude and joy.

Hands softly stroked along those sensitive alabaster sides, evoking shivers of sensation from the silent Captain; those lips of fire slowly trailing down to lick slowly and deliberately along the creamy expanse of the tendo's baby-soft throat. Straight teeth came to nibble teasingly along the junction between neck and shoulder, pulling the liquid life to the surface in the form of a faint mark of claim.

Groaning appreciatively in response, the frosty prodigy nuzzled the younger man's chin, dislodging that torturously distracting mouth to regain some semblance of clarity, "Ichigo…"

"Hmm…?" was the throaty murmur of question that pulled from the substitute's mouth, disappearing into the snowy hair below.

Allowing a soft smile to grace his features, nuzzling his cheek softly against the other's, Toshirou whispered gently against the carrot-top's throat, "We need to get some sleep…tomorrow is an important day."

"Hmm?" was the inquiry dragged in confusion from the half-mortal before him.

With a soft sigh and a tightened grip on a muscular forearm, Toshirou answered with slight anticipation, "We have an important ceremony to attend."

Ichigo frowned slightly at the vague words of the Captain before his eyes widened slightly in realization, "Oh…ok. Wait…what is that look for?"

The brows of the frosty shinigami furrowed slightly, deep with thought, "I have a proposition to make…"

* * *

The walk from the Kuchiki mansion to the 1st Division headquarters had never been a longer journey than it was this afternoon. Though the standard black shinigami robes and the customary ice blue scarf and gloves were as light as ever, something beyond the clothing was weighing down on his shoulders – something that he couldn't quite name as fear, but wouldn't dare call excitement.

His silver hair was parted deeply to the left side, the loose strands secured tightly in the confines of his ivory _kensaiken_ – the telltale sign of his nobility. His eyes, though vibrant against the grey sky above, contrasting the dark tan of his flesh, held no sparkle on this formal caravan.

Though Kuraime loathed the formalities of Soul Society's traditions, he knew that someday he would look back on this with pride and purpose…but that day was obviously not today, and he couldn't quite put his finger on the reason. Something tugged at the very edges of his nerves, pulling at the small amount of calm that he had managed to conjure up in the time it took to prepare and leave his quarters. Something was definitely…

Then it hit him with such a force that he actually paused in his step, causing the attendant following directly behind him to falter and bump into him. After much profuse apology, Kuraime held up a hand to silence the onslaught of grief, "It's not any trouble. I'm the one that should apologize, for I was not paying attention."

Returning to his place, he began to travel forward, once more on-course. But now, his mind was racing, filled with a mixture of both clarity and dread as he focused on the real problem beneath the excuses.

As they approached the 1st Division Headquarters, where all of the current Captains, Vice Captain's, and ranked officers were sure to be gathered, he couldn't keep that newly found despair from flooding his body.

_They're both going to be here_…

* * *

Sapphire eyes, hard as the gems they took their color from, plastered themselves to the marble floors. They would do anything to avoid meeting _turquoise_ or _amber_…anything.

Those _amber_ colored orbs had found their way to that silver head the moment the doors had opened, searching that caramel face for any sign of emotion, only to be disappointed. Something about those sad and downcast jewels was horribly disconcerting to the substitute shinigami. Knowing now what he didn't know then, he couldn't help but feel a certain amount of guilt shiver through his body once more, and only stopped to breathe when he felt the deceptively gentle hand of the icy Captain run feather soft touches secretly along the smooth skin of his inner wrist.

Even through the stress of the situation, he couldn't stop the soft quirk of his lips at the uncharacteristic gesture of support; he began to think that he could start getting used to this kind of treatment. There wasn't a snowball's chance in hell that he would deny any of the newly experienced affections that he frosty lover had begun to provide.

As the attendants, celebrants, and honored took their places and the ceremony began, Ichigo could feel the tension thickening and a nearly suffocating aura surrounding the man he studied. Even though the shinigami was currently becoming a Captain, there was still something so damn gloomy about him that made the situation quite uncomfortable even for those uninvolved.

Those tan shoulders, hidden beneath black and white cloth were hunched ever so slightly; those brilliant blue orbs were glazed over in a nearly doll-like stare; that faintly chiseled jaw was clenched in a vice grip that spoke of restraint – but of what, he didn't know; and the way that noble moved was with a tense rigidity that betrayed any nerves he may have been experiencing. To put it honestly, the kid was a mess.

Ichigo couldn't stop his own hand from reaching behind himself to close his fingers around the white tatters of his zanpakuto wrapping – a desperate grip on something familiar when his lover was twenty feet away in line with the other Captains in the ceremony. He could nearly feel the manifestation of his inner hollow coating the tips of his nerves with a velvety sensation in an effort to soothe him. _C'mon King, don't make it rain! I'll drown by the time you get out of this stuffy joint. Relax_…

The carrot-top couldn't help but smirk slightly at the pleading voice of his hollow, clearly tinged with a hint of worry for its master, regardless of the manner in which they normally encountered one another. In truth, he and his hollow had come to an agreement of sorts. The plaster-colored being within him had been goaded into submission and a comradeship of sorts had emerged.

Returning his attention to the program at hand, he glance up just in time to see the 3rd Division Vice-Captain, Izuru Kira, place the neatly folded Captain haori into the upturned palms of the new Captain. As the substitute studied the face of the newly appointed member of the elite of the Gotei 13, he couldn't help but notice all of the uncanny similarities between the two Captains in his life.

They were both respected members of the 13 Court Guard Squads; both seasoned warriors. Both were fairly close in stature, though the newer Captain was still a few inches taller. Though their complexions were extremely contrasting, their eyes were both so vibrant and sparkling, speaking volumes of the men that bore them. Ichigo had always had a raging attraction to blue eyes, and to know that the two most intimate people in his life bore such stunning orbs was almost surreal.

_Hey, stop spacing…it's over. Your little prince is headed this way. Pay attention. I don't feel like getting hit._

He jolted from his reverie, startled by the raspy voice of his inner hollow, alerting him to the newest update in the current situation. Using the small pause in action to recollect his thoughts, he effortlessly fell into step behind the slightly smaller man before him. He took note of the hard, determined stare on the prodigy's face – the one reserved for battles and paperwork.

Taking that as his cue, the substitute made his way to the exit, following just far enough behind the frosty Captain to not arouse suspicion, yet near enough to reprove their current relationship.

Then, remembering the discussion that they had the previous night, Ichigo couldn't help but smirk slightly. From the recesses of his mind, he could hear the almost sinister whispers of his inner beast.

_This is gonna be interesting_, _King_…_It's showtime!_

* * *

…**TBC**…


	13. Paralysis

**Title**: Paralysis

**Characters**: Kuraime, Toshirou, Ichigo

**Rating**: MA

**Warning**: adult content, language, yaoi, (No lemon, sorry. Next chapter though…)

**Song Stuck in Head**: "In for the Kill" – La Roux

**A/N**: Again, I apologize for the unacceptably long wait. My aunt was just diagnosed with breast cancer and my mother is going in for a biopsy soon, so things have been a little hectic and stressed. But here I am with another chapter, and I really hope y'all like this one, because it is the 2nd to last one. That's right, guys, only one more after this, and it is going to be the epilogue. I want to thank everyone who has read thus far, and hope that y'all will continue to read my different works in this fandom and my others. So, please read and review; your feedback is what keeps me going (along with some much needed support from the muse for this story, Kuraime-Zhen, of course!).

* * *

By the time he reached his chambers he was exhausted – both physically and spiritually. Every muscled ached; every emotion hurt. It was almost as if his soul was shutting down or deciding that he wasn't worthy to have peace…which was, in truth, not too difficult to accept.

Running his tan hand lazily down the doorframe, caressing the dark wood that hugged alabaster wall, he couldn't stop the sigh that slipped out of his mouth, his shoulders slumping with fatigue. His eyes slid shut, steadying himself briefly before inhaling deeply to collect his scattered thoughts.

_I'm far too young to feel so old_…

Everything – the wars, the loss, the whirlwind romances, the spars, the promotion, the nobility, the loss of so many lives, and the most recent developments – it was all so…exhausting. And he hadn't even spoken to the people that he needed to speak with most of all…

In truth, he probably shouldn't feel so glum; it wasn't every day that you got to become a Captain of the 13 Court Guard Squads, and, in truth, he really should have felt better about himself right then. Hell, he had gotten another chance with the man he had been so in love with years ago.

_But he hasn't sought me out since then…does that mean that he regrets it? I don't know how I could deal with hearing that from him, so I assume it is probably best that he doesn't tell me if that is the reason. _

When he finally opened his eyes, he was met with a startling sight. Entering the room like a phantom from the lavatory, as if somehow silently summoned by his musings, was someone that he wasn't sure he was ready to speak with.

'Well shit…'

As the white-haired figure approached silently, but with surprising haste, Kuraime was so distracted that he had not time to react as something covered his face from behind and the world was suddenly…completely black.

* * *

He watched with worried teal eyes as the newest Captain twitched a bit in his drug-induced unconsciousness. He hated that they had resorted to forceful incapacitation, but it was, in truth, the quickest and most effective method.

He sighed to himself as he remembered the look on the younger Shinigami's face – so tired and defeated. It was almost as if all of the light had left his eyes and all that remained was merely a shell of his former self – just going through the motions.

It was a frightening sight, to see someone that he was so used to identifying as warm and inviting, be so shut-down and empty…hollow in a way.

It wasn't until warm arms encircled him from behind that he felt himself relax a bit, his eyes sliding shut at the heated sensation of moist breath at the back of his neck, taunting his hackles. He allowed a soft smile to dance upon his lips as those searing petals made their way to the junction of his neck and shoulder, branding molten symbols upon his flesh with that sinful tongue.

He could feel himself becoming aroused rather quickly, and knew that this had to stop before their captive decided to wake to something that would probably cause his already weak mind to finally snap into pieces and leak out of the orifices of his head.

Turning around in the embrace, the smaller shinigami placed both of his lean hands on the carrot-top's broader chest, "Ichigo…?"

"Yeah, babe…?" was the reply, followed by a chaste kiss to his porcelain forehead.

Toshirou prickled slightly at the pet name, before smiling lightly once more, leaning into the touch briefly before pulling back to look at the considerably younger human, "Are you sure you know what we are doing? I don't want there to be any second-guessing in this area of our lives. This is serious and once we start something like this…you know we can't go back."

Ichigo's amber eyes locked onto the turquoise ones before him, studying them with intensity usually reserved for those moments that called for all seriousness. Lifting a hand to an alabaster cheek, he thumbed softly across a snowy eyebrow, "You worry too much. I understand the gravity of what we're doing here. I'm not a child anymore; I do understand that this is something that we are going to have to approach with a lot of care and caution. I'm not the one you should be worried about here."

Those ivory lids slipped over those brilliant blue-green orbs once more, hiding them from view as the prodigy proceeded to lose himself in thought.

"I just don't want you to regret this."

A deeper understanding touched Ichigo's whiskey eyes; they widened slightly before molding into a look of soft concern, "Toshirou…I promise I won't."

They were suddenly interrupted by a soft, pained moaning from the twitching figure on the bed, their heads turning rapidly to witness said shinigami raise a tan hand to his forehead, attempting to sit in a wobbly fashion.

It was a few moments before the new Captain realized that he was no longer in his room; instead he saw deep chocolate-colored walls, grey gossamer curtains, and a handcrafted mahogany wardrobe. _Wait a minute_…

Looking down, he saw the silvery-grey comforter below, and his breath caught. Suddenly, his head jerked – a little too fast, maybe – to see the two culprits hovering to the right of the 'all-too-familiar' bed.

Bleary eyes blinked uncertainly, glistening with the final vestiges of sleep in their almost innocent confusion. He looked much like a small child would if he were to fall asleep on the floor and be moved to his bed by a parent, waking in momentary disorientation.

"W-what the hell…?"

Words escaped him as he tried to piece together the fuzzy pieces of this puzzle laid out before him, trying desperately to make 'two' and 'two' equal something resembling 'four.'

Then the words came – not from his own lips, but rather the slightly chapped ones of the carrot-top beside his bed.

"Good evening, Kuraime. Fancy meeting you here today…"

Even though the Kuchiki's head was pounding from the residual headache and blatant shock of the situation, he could still almost _hear_ the dramatic eye roll of exasperation from the icy Captain across from him.

"Never mind him, Kuchiki. He seems to be a bit confused at the moment, much like yourself. I think what he means to say, and this is a stretch, is that we going to sit here, and we are going to talk about this together like the adults that we are…regardless of how some of us may act."

Kuraime didn't miss the pale elbow that dug itself into the ribcage of the taller man beside him, his confusion deepening further as he tried to wrap his mind around the fact that neither of them were killing each other, and even further at the realization that he was also not under any form of vengeful attack.

Driven by his new curiosity, he sat up completely, fisting his left hand in the iridescent comforter as his right scraped lightly at his scalp, nimble fingers running softly through his own silver hair, "Umm…what?"

The teal-eyed Captain of the 10th Division didn't miss the look of confusion and apprehension on his former lover's face, having already memorized every expression he had ever seen the new Captain make. Kuraime had always been an open book – never very good at hiding his emotions, regardless of what the younger shinigami might have believed about himself; the Kuchiki was not fooling Hitsugaya.

Toushirou felt a warm hand cover his own, weaving long fingers with his own slightly bonier ones. Glancing at the substitute shinigami beside him, he could feel the tension dissipating marginally, his words ready to be spoken.

"Kuraime, I understand that you are probably extremely confused right now, but it's okay. We don't expect you to understand what's been occurring recently."

He watched as the younger Captain visibly relaxed, though still retained his guard. _Fair enough_…

Pressing forward, Toushirou tightened his grip around the hand in his own, not missing the small flash of jealously, not as well hidden as it usually was, touch those sapphire eyes across from his own.

"We wanted you to know…" and his voice failed him, drifting away as his eyes darted to his own comforter, resting on the white-knuckled grip that the Kuchiki had taken up as the words had progressed.

For the first time in a very, very long time, he was speechless. He knew everything that he needed to say, but for some reason, he couldn't get the words to reach his lips.

Thankfully, he was not alone in his confessions, for this new paralysis was preventing him from even speaking mere comforts or small conversation, much less a serious confession or well-thought-out decision.

* * *

"Ichigo, do you have feelings for him? I don't love you any less, believe me, but...I really need to know this."

"To be completely honest, I can't say that I don't…I'm sorry."

"…alright."

"Wait, what?"

"I said: alright. That makes things much less complicated."

"…"

"So, you do understand his appeal, I see."

"How could anyone not? How do you feel about him? And why are you not ripping my throat out?"

"…I believe that we have just found ourselves in a very fortunate situation – if you would be willing to work with it, of course."

"Come again…?"

"He feels for us both, and apparently we are in mutual agreement…so…"

"Wait, wait, wait…are you serious?"

"As a Captain, I cannot authorize a Substitute Shinigami to be intimately involved with a noble of one of the greatest clans in Soul Society…but you have my unofficial permission as someone who is already skimming on the edges of that decorum by humoring your indulgences in this relationship."

"…you know I fucking love you, right?"

"Ichigo–"

"You're gorgeous, strong, smart–"

"Ichigo…"

"–heroic, kind, sexy, funny–"

"Okay! That's enough."

"…Toshirou, do you think maybe..."

"Hmm…?"

"Maybe…Kuraime is what we've been missing?"

"…I can't be sure – but there's really only one way to figure that out."

"And let me guess – you have a plan…right?

* * *

Frozen with panic and forced resignation, the silver-haired Kuchiki could feel his fingers going numb from his vice grip on the comforter. Watching the large variety of emotions cross over the elder Captain's face before him, the only one that could ever make him falter, was not in any way comforting, and he couldn't stop the fear that flooded his body.

The distinct voice of the substitute Shinigami pierced through his panic long enough to allow a small amount of relief to seep back through, gifting him the ability to breath once more as he waited.

"Kuraime…what my boyfriend is trying to say here is that there isn't anything to be worried about anymore. I know that this may seem extremely hard to believe, but neither of us are angry anymore, nor are we intent on settling the score with anyone."

Blinking slightly in confusion, the new Captain let his shoulders sag a bit at the new discovery. As far as he could tell, the carrot-top was not lying in his reassurance; there was no tension or anger in his body – at least not visibly.

"So, that being said, I think that you should know what we have decided."

_Great…here it comes_.

"I know that you may or may not like this idea, and feel free to disagree and stop me at any point, but…"

_This is it…time to face the music_.

"We, well…we kinda wanted to know if you would be interested in…"

_Fuck, fuck, fuck_…

"…a certain proposition that we have to offer you."

_Shit–wait…what_?

"We wanted to know if you would even consider…maybe…being with us?"

_H-hold on a second….WHAT?!_

"You know, like…joining into our relationship?"

Whatever the new Captain had expected to hear…that was not it, and he couldn't help but gape slightly at the proposition, his jaw going slack and eyes widening considerably.

The silence was deafening.

"C-Come again…?"

He was met with a slightly anxious expression from the substitute Shinigami, and could do nothing but blink and wait in response.

"Umm…" Ichigo muttered, with a scratch to the back of his head to off-put some of his nerves, "I meant that we want you to consider, y'know…being with us _together_."

The wheels and gears in Kuraime's head were beginning to turn as he watched the look of subtle agreement present itself on the slightly smaller Captain's face – those vibrant teal eyes fighting to make contact with his own.

His heart started to melt a bit.

The new Captain had expected many outcomes to this scenario, but none of them were anywhere close to _acceptance_. It was something that he almost couldn't fathom at this present moment, satisfied with the fact that he wasn't having his throat ripped out or an icy blade piercing his heart.

_Together…with both of them? Like, starting over?_

This wasn't something he knew how to respond to. How would that even work? Ichigo was from another world and Hitsugaya surely had a reputation to consider…and what about his own family?

Then it occurred to him – hitting him with the force of Captain Zaraki's spiritual pressure: None of that mattered. What mattered was that for once everyone was in agreement on something. What mattered was that there was now a chance for happiness where there had, for so long, been none – only loneliness and distraction.

Steeling himself for the dream to shatter, he shook his head for a moment, clearing the fog from his mind and meeting the amber eyes across from him.

"Why would you want this? I think it sounds great and all…but there has to be some kind of repercussion. Doesn't that matter to you both?"

The elder Captain uttered a heavy sigh of resignation, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand before taking a few short steps to the bed and lowering himself to be seated beside the stunned Kuchiki. Reaching out with a new determination, he grasped the tan Shinigami's chin firmly in his lean fingers, turning his face to lock their vibrant eyes. It was a surreal moment, those jewels latching onto one another in a hauntingly nostalgic way, as if seeing a long lost lover return from an indefinite absence…one that you had almost forgotten was as important to you as they were.

Those eyes spoke the world to him, in soft whispers and silent pleas for forgiveness. Those sapphire orbs were like a memory that he couldn't shake away, bringing torrents of past moments and reverie crashing back onto him. He almost had to avert his eyes from the sheer power and intensity behind the stare, so wanton yet determined.

"Don't you think that by now I would know what the possible consequences and repercussions could be? Do you honestly think that I would be suggesting something like this without having already come to terms with whatever could happen because of this decision?"

Caramel lids attempted to avert sapphire eyes, but were quickly righted back to their previous location with the aid of a swift tug on his chin by a porcelain hand.

"Kuraime, I know that you aren't stupid. Don't make me question my faith in your intelligence. We should know each other by now…"

Glancing back at Ichigo, the Captain of the 10th Division was met with a soft smile and a subtle nod of agreement, before the tall carrot-top was on the other side of the bed, taking his own seat beside the new Captain.

Nervously meeting those teal orbs once more, seeing the clarity and resolve behind those lenses, Kuraime found that he was being filled with something that could be considered hope once more. Sighing to himself, he felt the fingers on his chin loosen, a deceptively soft thumb rubbing gently over his jaw line before retreating from his flesh and relaxing in the owner's lap.

Closing his eyes softly, Kuraime sat equally between the two shinigami, placing his hands flat on the mattress below to ground himself, preparing the question that was now tugging at his mind.

"But, wouldn't I be…coming between the two of you?"

A sudden look of mischief mixed with a strangely misplaced hunger reached the substitute's brandy eyes as he smirked slightly in approval, "Gods, I sure hope so…damn, that would be hot."

A sigh was released beside him as the carrot-top received a whack to the head, "Very eloquent, Ichigo…you're very eloquent, and also _not_ helping."

Rubbing the sore spot, Ichigo merely continued to smirk,

"Well, the only way you icy-hot stoics will ever get along is if we have a hot gay threesome!"

Receiving another, more forceful smack to the temple, the slightly smaller Captain clenched his fists, still maintaining a deadpan expression and monotone vocalization, proceeded to reprimand him once more.

"Ichigo…what in the name of all that is sacred has gotten into you? I knew that you were a strange one, but this is appalling even to me…"

Between them, Kuraime Kuchiki couldn't help but smirk slightly in wonder and ponder just what he was getting himself into.

_Ichigo is crazy to the point of completely losing any chance of decorum and Toshirou is a difficult one to handle at times, but somehow…I'm not so worried this time around. _

"Okay…"

Suddenly the bickering stopped, both heads turning to face him with mixed emotions on their faces.

"Excuse me?" / "Huh?"

The simultaneous answers, so different in courtesy, yet both so endearing, turned the Kuchiki's smirk into a soft chuckle.

He watched two sets of contrasting eyes widen slightly in half-realization.

"I think it's worth a try…because you know me Toshirou."

He watched a soft smile twitch at the corner of the prodigy's lips, "…you always try anything at least once."

Then the moment was shattered by the slightly gruff voice of the substitute, "You know, that might come in handy later with – OUCH!"

As he watched his two lovers – one old and one new – quarrel incessantly, he managed to sink back into the headboard behind them and watch with tightly reigned in amusement as he witnessed his new life slowly unfold and begin.

* * *

…**TBC** in _Epilogue_…


	14. Epilogue: Precision

Title: Epilogue - Precision

Rating: NC-17

Characters: Kuraime, Toshirou, Ichigo

Warning: Adult content, yaoi, lemon, language

A/N: Well, this is it: the final installment in this piece. I hope that everyone has thoroughly enjoyed it and thank you to everyone that religiously 'watched' it. I enjoyed all of your reviews and feedback and hope that you will continue to follow me as an author. I would also like to extend a final thanks to Kuraime-Zhen, the inspiration and co-creator of this story (also the creator of the OC) for all of his patience and guidance throughout. This would definitely not have been possible without his constant support and feedback. Well, here it is! Enjoy and Review!

_(Also…if anyone is interested I just might [eventually] do some side-shots about different gaps in this story. (Ex.: the night that Kuraime and Hitsugaya first professed their love to one another in the dojo, Kuraime and Byakuya's conversation about the new relationship, etc…) Y'know…kind of like flashback-fics. But I need feedback and prompting first. ;)_

* * *

_**One Month Later…**_

* * *

Dropping haphazardly beside the snowy Shinigami, the 5th Division Captain finally allowed the frustrated sigh to escape his slack lips in a choked huff. Bringing a hand up to his face, he gently massaged his forehead before ultimately dragging his lean fingers through his now heavily layered hair, cut casually to nearly a thumb's length above his narrow shoulders. Carefully, he worked the porcelain _kensaiken_ out of the silky tresses, shaking the moldings from his hair into the waiting hands of the softly smiling prodigy.

It had been nearly a month since the entire ordeal that had nearly torn them all apart, and it was safe to say that things were now working themselves out rather beautifully.

Each night found the sapphire-eyed Captain in the 10th Division office, skillfully coaxing the dutiful executive away from the heinous amounts of paperwork that managed to pile up from the Vice-Captain's shirked tasks and religious drunkenness.

He would then begin his regime that would eventually lead them retire to the now expanded quarters that were located strategically behind the 8th Division – directly between the Kuchiki Mansion and the 10th Squad base.

Kuraime would soothe the elder Shinigami with a steaming mug of green tea and a gentle squeeze to the no-doubt tense shoulders – a promise of a better relief upon his retirement to the resting chambers.

From there, they would clear the desk and make the short trek to said quarters, and fall into a comfortable routine. They followed much the same steps that they would on their own, with the mere exception of content conversation and a warm body beside the other through the night.

The previous month had been a hectic one, and unfortunately, the three had never managed to find the opportunity to all be together at the same time for more than a few minutes. Between the Substitute Shinigami's home life, and the 10th and 5th Division Captain's duties, there was little time for any form of intimacy or even pleasant conversation. By the end of the day, they were far too tired to do anything more than fall into the oversized bed and sleep like lead.

It had not been surprising to either of them that, though Ichigo was out of school for the holidays, they saw him nearly as little as they had when he had been enrolled and attending classes avidly. They were aware that they had the young adult's family clinic and his troublesome Substitute Shinigami duties to credit for that; but they were thankful that he was able to spend the weekend in Soul Society regularly.

As a matter of fact, that day was a Friday – coming slowly to a weary end – and the carrot-top would soon be sprawled out on the bed beside the others in a hazy half-consciousness before too long. This was the night that they had been planning for nearly that entire month. It was the first night that both Captains had been relieved of their duties early and the Substitute would be taking his first and last uninterrupted weekend in Soul Society for the remainder of his Winter Break.

As if reading the Kuchiki's thoughts, the other Captain reached forward, running long fingers through now tousled silver locks, massaging gently at the tan scalp and enjoying the silkiness of the board-straight strands. The younger Shinigami couldn't hold in the soft sigh that escaped him, leaning subtly into the expert touch of those nimble digits.

Tilting his head backwards to fully experience those talented touches, Kuraime slid his dark lids slowly over his jewel-toned eyes, inhaling the lingering scents of sandalwood – _that wafted from the incense across the room_ – and vanilla _– the prodigy's snowy hair_ – that drifted over his slumped shoulder to tickle his nose when the Captain leaned over to slide searing lips over his caramel cheek.

Those fiery, yet feather-light brushes of the tendo's lips over his warming flesh never ceased to astound the Kuchiki. It never felt any less amazing than the previous time, and filled him with such nostalgia from years past. He was nearly overwhelmed by the shear gravity of the thoughts…

Only a month ago he had been so alone – so lost in his own hell of mattress jumping and schoolboy self-relief. None of the other lovers he had taken were even a small comparison to the man that currently held his head in between porcelain palms; none had ever even overcome the memory – if only for the night.

Their love had been like a wildfire: it was born from an unexpected and unplanned spark that suddenly flared into a raging inferno the soon raged out of control and beyond the scope of restraint. So unforeseen were those moments of primal need and instinctual submission to their hearts and bodies' wills – needy, greedy, and unyielding.

When it had ended so suddenly, Kuraime hadn't known what to do, so lost in his grief and self-loathing that he nearly lost sight of all that was important. When that icy Shinigami had walked out of his life, he had lost the very thing that drove him to success and fed his goals. He had lost his ambition – his determination.

But that didn't matter now; they had each other once more. They were rejoined and now they would have the rest of their lives to make it up to one another – to remap the contours of their bodies and relearn the workings of their hearts.

And to add to the surrealism of it, they now had a new branch of love to offer – a younger and much more carefree spirit to balance out their hard personalities. This was not something that the Kuchiki would have ever expected to be experiencing in his spirit-life. He knew that this was a gift that he was undeserving of, but it was not one that he was willing to give up for any reason.

His family had been much more relenting than he had foreseen them to be. He had walked into the meeting room with the full intention of denouncing his own title – should the need arise – and presenting an ultimatum with no chance of a bargain. But he had been surprised when the elders had merely shaken their heads, sighed, and glanced at each other in defeat.

'_We figured that this would eventually come to pass. You can't deny who you are forever, no matter what we might forbid otherwise. It seems that telling you to end this escapade would only instill dissent and tension between the branches of this family and the 13 Court Guard Squads, so you can have this victory, Kuraime Kuchiki.'_

Even more surprising had been the confrontation that had taken place shortly thereafter with his brother, Byakuya. The elder Kuchiki had cornered him in his chambers following the meeting, and had immediately pulled him into a tight embrace.

'_I'm proud of you, Kuraime. You've grown up…' _

'…You're thinking too much, Kuraime."

His eyes slipped open once more at the soft sound of Toshirou's voice as his fingers slipped from his hair and trailed down long arms to wrap loosely around his narrow waist.

He sighed softly, turning his head to bury his nose in those baby-soft hairs that rested on his shoulder, breathing in the intoxicating scent and letting it flood his senses once more. "My apologies," he whispered against those frosty locks, "I'm just thinking about us…"

He could almost feel the smile against his throat as the hot breath wafted along his chin at the reply, "I trust they are good thoughts?"

Smirking softly at the words, he nuzzled against the shell of the other Captain's ear, placing a soft kiss on the smooth flesh behind it, "Always…"

Just as he was leaning forward to capture those softly parted lips in a kiss, there was a startling knock at the door, evoking a small snicker from the 10th Division Captain, "Guess who's home…"

Removing himself from the younger Captain, Hitsugaya made his way to the sliding door, unlatching it and pulling it swiftly to the side. He was met with the slightly disheveled appearance of their young lover, looking every bit as exhausted as he probably felt.

Wasting no time, the snowy Captain reached his arms over the Substitute's shoulder, fitting his palm to the base of that warm neck, and tilted the boy's head down to seal their lips together in a chaste, yet deep kiss. Sliding his lips effortlessly across the carrot-top's, Toshirou could hear the beginnings of quickening breath from the surprised man before him, clearly not expecting such a forward welcome from the usually stoic Captain. Pulling his lips away, he grasped the younger Shinigami's hand and pulled him into the bedroom.

Once the vizard was fully inside the room, his zanpakuto resting against the wall, his other hand was encircled by that of the Kuchiki, who wasted no time in placing a gentle kiss on one golden-brown cheek. Ichigo couldn't keep the tired, yet blissful smile from his lips, right before he collapsed face-first into the comforter.

In no time at all there were nimble hands massaging his shoulders and a smaller set scraping comfortingly through his hair and across his scalp. He couldn't hold in the moan of appreciation, and relaxed into the two sets of touch easily.

"Had a hard day?" spoke the equally tired 10th Division Captain as his fingers ran through fiery orange hair just as they had done before to pale silver.

"Mmmm…you could say that." He murmured, melting further into the touch, "Never caught a break with the clinic, then three hollow sprang up out of nowhere and I had to chase them around the city before exterminating them. Then Yuzu's boyfriend broke up with her, so I had to play 'big brother' until Karin got home to take over."

He stretched like a cat and twisted around in their grip to lie on his back. The hands that had been on his shoulders stroked soothing trails down his limp forearms, threading long, tan fingers with his own.

"Hmm…" hummed the 5th Division Captain, hands sliding up to rest on the carrot-top's chest, "Well, it's all over now. No need to worry about it any longer; just relax."

And relax he did; he shut his eyes and began to fall into a sleepy, half-conscious state that felt like heaven.

Sharing a knowing look with the other Captain, Kuraime leaned over the dozing Substitute, staring down at the completely relaxed face – save for the slight furrowing of the rusty-colored eyebrows that was ever present.

Reaching tan fingers out, he gently brushed the tips of the digits over that small, forced wrinkle between the younger Shinigami's eyes, smoothing the tension away and causing those amber orbs to peel open slowly – eventually finding and locking onto the brilliant blues above him.

Without warning, the now dark-eyed Captain crashed their lips together, tasting the flavor that was so unique to the Substitute. Ichigo's eyes closed once more as a tongue slipped between his parted lips and into his mouth, the warm muscle sliding over his palate and tangling with his own. A strangled moan escaped him as the other briefly released his lips to breathe, before recapturing them with a greater purpose than before.

Lips eventually abandoned the carrot-top's own to trail kisses down the side of his neck, Ichigo turning his head slightly to facilitate the needy mouth. It traveled lower until hampered by the standard Shinigami robes.

Growling in slight annoyance, the Kuchiki slid his hands up under the close fitting black top, pushing it off of those broad shoulders. His eyes hungrily devoured the freshly visible flesh, and without further hesitation he began attacking the golden skin with ravenous kisses. The carrot-top found himself panting in exertion and sensation, arching into the other male unconsciously.

Callused hands buried themselves into silver locks, tugging at them feebly as the Captain licked his way down that toned chest. His body tingled everywhere that Kuraime touched, the pleasurable sparks shooting through his frame and pooling in a burning heat in his abdomen. The feelings were so raw and effortless, as if they had been made to do this, and his previous exhaustion was soon forgotten.

Reaching the tan navel, Kuraime's tongue darted teasingly into the dent before his fingers continued further to tug down the obi sash and toss it to the side, growling slightly as he realized his current position restricted further access.

The Kuchiki slid down and off of the bed; pulling the offending garments down with him, and smirked slightly as he watched the white-haired Captain lock lips with the Substitute. Tongues became visible through the slits in their mouths causing the new Captain's pants to tighten considerably before they, too, found their way to the floor.

Wasting no time, he climbed atop the Substitute to straddle his honey-colored hips, that lean and sinewy body rolling beneath his with the sudden exposure. Leaning down, he traced those swollen lips with the tip of his tongue, flicking teasingly at the corners of the younger's mouth.

Too caught up in the moment to realize the situation was changing quickly, he suddenly found their positions switched, his own back on the mattress so impulsively that he had no time to react before the carrot-top's tongue was shoved back down his throat. Their lips clashed together, and Kuraime was lost to the sensation of being straddled so aggressively – another heated erection grinding into his own with a renewed fervor.

Reaching a wandering hand up, he managed to find purchase in the soft folds of the 10th Division Captain's haori as it fell from the porcelain skin above, pooling into his tan palm. He could hear the soft sounds of fabric sliding off of flesh as the other Captain beside him continued to disrobe, the soft white and teal material sliding from the Kuchiki's hand to the floor below.

Impulsively, the carrot-top dipped his head down to rest his lips in the cove of the Kuchiki's neck and shoulder. He stayed there for a moment breathing hot wafts of air onto the caramel flesh. Kuraime remained still, heartbeat cresting, and he trembled when soft, warm lips landed on the side of his throat.

Ichigo moved closer, sliding up from the Captain's neck to nuzzle his cheek softly, showering it with feathery kisses that the Kuchiki couldn't help but lean into. The Kurosaki boy's lips moved closer, finally stopping to hover at the left corner of the silver-haired Shinigami's mouth.

The compliant Captain twisted his head to the side and pushed their lips together determinedly. Ichigo nipped at Kuraime's bottom lip, requesting entrance, to be accepted with no hesitation.

The carrot-top's tongue moved forward and into that waiting mouth, quickly met by the other's warm, pink muscle. The Kuchiki's fingertips dug into the man's flushed shoulders as they kissed, his head tilting slightly and leaning forward for better access – legs spreading widely to accommodate those of the Substitute.

The heat from the younger Shinigami's mouth traveled all the way down Kuraime's spine and into the pit of his stomach, continuing its descent. The hardened flesh between his legs gave a painful throb, and he couldn't keep himself from moaning into the kiss and pulling the Substitute closer.

Strong arms wrapped tightly around the toasty colored flesh of the 5th Division Captain, pulling him into a seated position, the backs of his knees hooked around the narrow hips of the carrot-top. Sword-callused hands stroked rough, yet tender trails up the smaller Shinigami's back before burying themselves in the silver mane once more.

Tan skin slid heatedly along golden flesh, slick and burning as they groaned into each other's mouths. Those same, callused fingers ran up and down his back continually – scratching, yet gentle.

The Kuchiki's fingers reached up to tangle themselves in vibrant orange hair, growling low and long, and thrusting his hips upward to grind against Ichigo's bare member.

Suddenly, he froze for barely a moment as he felt someone leaning over him from behind, tight abdominal and pectoral muscles sliding smoothly over his back and shoulders. He felt a different pair of hands tracing lines over his bare thighs, urging his toned legs to spread wider for proximity.

He shuddered heavily as hot breath wafted against his ear, his head turning to see white hair and teal eyes. He shivered as he felt, rather than heard the harsh whisper against the shell of his ear, "Turn around."

Steady arms fell away from his back and lifted him to facilitate the exchange, his bare hips pivoting against both pale and golden flesh in varying degrees of pigment. Now facing the slightly smaller Captain, he immediately re-wrapped his long legs loosely around a narrower set of hips.

Though Toshirou was a merely few inches shorter than both of them, and much slighter in frame, his arms held no less power than the Substitute's as they wrapped themselves around the new Captain's shoulders and pressed his head down to seal their lips against one another.

"Fuck…" Kuraime groaned as he felt something hard, hot, and slick tease the dip of his rear.

He panted from atop the snowy Captain, peering down at his lover, tongue slipping out to moisten his own dry lips. He panted lightly, face flushed from exertion, writhing against the hardness pressing up into the crevice of his ass.

Turquoise met amber over the tan shoulder as both males shared a knowing look. Taking the initiative, Toshirou tentatively kissed those breathless lips once more, feeling that body shiver around him. His pale hand grasped at the darker one belonging to the Substitute, bringing it up to the junction of their locked lips. One by one, he slipped three fingers past their sealed lips into the moistness, his tongue slipping over and around the digits; never once breaking eye contact with the amber-eyed Shinigami.

Ichigo moaned as he saw his fingers disappear past the two sets of swollen lips, groaning once more when he felt both tongues lavish them. The tailbone rocking against his arousal only made things more torturous, but he definitely wasn't complaining.

Bracing himself on narrow, pale shoulders and pushing his slender body up, Kuraime ground down harshly and arched against the other Captain's throbbing erection, releasing a very loud moan that sent quivers through the man below him, vibrations tingling against his lips.

The icy Captain's right hand trailed teasingly down the caramel chest before him, raking blunt nails against the firm, yet lean muscles beneath. His fingers continued their descent; sliding through nearly colorless, fine hairs before wrapping firmly around the now leaking member.

Giving a quick jerk to the vaguely pulsating length, he pulled a keening whimper of pleasure from those parted lips above. One larger hand glided over a taut hip, skimming down to join the pale hand in its endeavor, wrapping slightly thicker fingers directly above the other's to aid in bringing the new Captain to within an inch of his mind.

"Fuck…ugh…" were the only sounds that could be made out from the noises escaping the Kuchiki.

Ichigo panted shakily for a moment, and Toshirou could see by the rise and fall of his chest and stomach muscles that the carrot-top was slowly losing control as he ground against the tan rear.

The younger Captain hardly felt the shift in the mattress as Toshirou reached around to grab something beneath the pillow, tossing it to the shaking Substitute behind him, nor did he hear the pop of the cap off of the bottle of lubricant. Rather, it was the scent of the strawberry-vanilla flavoring that caught in his nose and alerted him to the precursor for the next step in their activities.

_Oh, the irony_…

A second later, the Kuchiki felt slick fingers at his entrance, and received no warning before the first was slipped into the warm canal, a shiver wracking his body at the sudden intrusion. Ichigo nearly came himself, imagining how tight that entrance would be around him.

The pale hands of the 10th Division Captain gripped tightly at his hips, lifting them to unwrap the long tan legs from around his own waist. A larger hand wrapped around to grab the front of his left thigh, guiding his knees to the mattress and pulling his hips back to straddle the kneeling ones of the Substitute. Kuraime jolted at the sensation of the finger still imbedded inside of him wiggling with the motion of changing positions.

Another finger followed the first, the Substitute patiently prepping the man in front of him, openly delighting in the wanton moans and cries he elicited from the new Captain. He enjoyed the velvety feel of the walls clenching and coiling around his digits as he added a third, and final, finger.

Tossing the bottle back to the eldest Shinigami, he gripped the slightly smaller Kuchiki's left hip firmly, working his fingers in and out of that body with a methodical precision – stretching and scissoring to loosen the muscles quickly.

When the muscles were thoroughly loosened, he slowly removed his fingers, one at a time, using his left hand to hold the other's hips still. Littering the smaller man's shoulders with soft kisses, he moved closer, aligning himself and pressing he head of his erection against Kuraime's entrance.

Groaning into the elder Captain's mouth, the Kuchiki pressed back against Ichigo's length, urging him on with body language and taunting rolls of the hips. He could feel lips and teeth on his throat, scraping lightly against his jugular vein as the carrot-top began to press forward.

Kuraime gasped loudly as he was slowly stretched and filled, the Substitute stilling inside of him to allow adjustment time. Toshirou was kissing him slowly, deeply – distracting him from the momentary sting that always came from inactivity and time. As he rolled their tongues together, he opened his eyes slowly to meet the dark, whiskey-colored ones across the way, stunned by the amount of lust contained within the two orbs.

The white-haired Captain reached up and ran a hand through the bright orange hair just as Ichigo pulled out slowly and thrust back in sharply. At the sudden intrusion, the Kuchiki gasped against Toshirou's lips, breaking the kiss to catch his breath.

"Shit…" the new Captain groaned, tilting his head back as the icy Captain rained licks and nips down his throat, meeting the lips of the Substitute just above his tanned shoulder.

Ichigo began to thrust shallowly, rocking his hips back and forth in a slow fashion, building tension. Back arching once more, Kuraime bowed his back against the carrot-top's shoulders; his hips bucking back to meet the younger man's next thrust – helping him to strike deeper and harder.

"More…please…" were the whining moans of the Kuchiki as he pushed back once more.

A harsh moan shuddered against his ear as the pace suddenly increased, the force picking up as well.

"Oh, fuck!"

He could say nothing else, his eyes rolling back slightly as Ichigo struck that amazing spot within him, sending white spots to his eyes and pleasure to shoot down to their joining.

As he was reeling from another strike to his prostate, he felt a slender hand cup his chin and three fingers enter past his lips. His eyes peeled open in slight confusion, but his tongue encircled the digits, coating them thoroughly before they withdrew as quickly as they had entered.

What happened next had him thinking that his brain had completely shut down, and he could hear the primal growl from over his shoulder from the Substitute who was apparently just as surprised.

Two pairs of eyes flew down with the hand as Hitsugaya moved back on his rumpled edge of the comforter. The tendo spread his legs apart, lowering the fingers to his entrance. The first finger was pushed in without hesitation, and an uncomfortable look flashed on his face, but passed soon, and a second finger joined the first.

The two, stunned Shinigami, now completely stilled in their movements, watched as the icy Captain prepared himself, gripping the blankets with his free hand tightly as he fucked himself on his own fingers.

Neither of the others could stop the soft moans from flying past their lips as the silent Captain added a third finger, teal eyes sliding open to pass between the two faces that were locked onto his movements.

Kuraime couldn't stop himself from reaching out to slide a hand down the smaller Shinigami's chest and stomach, fingers dancing teasingly over his swollen member. Hitsugaya's eyes closed again and the Kuchiki watched as he finally removed his fingers with a soft sigh.

Grabbing the bottle of lubrication, he squeezed a liberal amount into his palm, spreading it around his fingers before plunging them back into his body for a moment – both spectators growling in anticipation. The sapphire-eyes opened wider as he watched those slick fingers leave that pale body and felt the sticky hand encircle his erection, slicking the excess lubrication along the shaft, coaxing him to become even more aroused.

As Ichigo began to shift slightly beneath him, the new Captain pitched himself forward a bit, shoving Toshirou back against the headboard with little hesitation. It was as if something had snapped inside of him and with the next strike to his prostate, he grabbed tightly at those slender, pale hips and yanked them down to meet his own.

Hitsugaya sucked in a gasp as he felt the head of Kuraime's engorged length teasing his entrance, freshly moist and pliable. Sword-callused hands slid deliciously from sharp hips along taut sides to rest on a narrow ribcage as he pushed the head of his member past that still firm ring of muscles, evoking broken gasps and muffled curses from between the teeth that had locked harshly down upon porcelain lips.

Those teal eyes watched through their lustful haze as the Kuchiki kissed his way back down the toned body, caressing, licking, kissing the flesh that was trembling and shuddering under his touch.

Toshirou's upper body was covered in scars, most faint and old, but some newer and noticeable by touch alone – raised and smooth. Every so often, when they were intimate like this, Kuraime was sure that he found a new one. This time, he took his time kissing every single one, before returning to his lover's panting face, kissing parted lips.

The new Captain felt no shame at moaning loudly at the double stimulation as he seated himself fully and received a particularly harsh stab to his prostate from the carrot-top inside of him. The grip of the elder Captain's walls around him was so hot, so tight – almost as if he was being grasped and pulled inside by some invisible hand. It was so intense that he couldn't stop himself from thrusting deeply within, becoming painfully aware of the crescent indentations that were being etched into his shoulders by the icy Shinigami's blunt nails.

"Oh…god. Please relax – please…it's too – too tight! I'm n-not gonna last…"

But the words finally escaped him and were soon replaced by repetitive thrusting and a few well-angled stabs as the head of his erection finally made startling contact with the smaller man's prostate.

"S-shit…"

Hearing curse words fall unintentionally from those usually stoic and careful lips made both of the other Shinigami practically growl in arousal. Hitsugaya groaned, squeezing his knees tightly against Kuraime's tan sides to drive him even deeper.

Kuraime could feel his orgasm building, an intense coiling heat that gathered in all areas of his body, pooling into his lower stomach and loins at a feverish rate. With each thrust, Hitsugaya tensed around him as his sensitive bundle of nerves was struck without fail.

The effect was immediate for the carrot-top, that tight canal constricting almost painfully around him as the silver-haired man between them tipped over the edge and went rigid with release, spilling deep within the smaller man below with a surprised cry. Ichigo thought it was probably the hottest, most erotic thing that he had ever experienced, his fingers passing blindly around and downward to grip the 10th Division Captain's now dripping length, pumping it in time with his own quickly approaching climax.

He looked down, his eyes taking in the heated flesh, tousled snowy hair, glistening turquoise eyes, and heaving alabaster chest. Porcelain ankles brushed unconsciously against his honey-colored sides, and a few diligent pumps later, he watched in adoring fascination as that pale figure went stiff against the mattress, arching his back against Kuraime's final thrusts, impaling himself as deeply as possible – fists clenching with a white-knuckled grip within the now thoroughly wrinkled comforter.

That perfectly deadly body tensed and nearly thrashed as pearly streams coated that porcelain chest below, white brows knitting together as sweat beaded on fair temples – hair plastered to a heated forehead…the only sound was a muffled grunt from behind the crook of his right elbow.

And it finally brought the youngest participant to his end – tearing the orgasm from his body almost violently. His body curled in on itself, pressing the man between them flush against the panting tendo. Ichigo felt as if he was going to die from the sheer intensity of the climax, fingers burying themselves in that snowy mane as he thrust madly into the Kuchiki, burying himself to the hilt one final time as he released his essence deep within that still twitching body.

Toshirou's legs fell boneless to the bed below, his head lolling to the side as he struggled to regain control over his ragged breathing.

"Dammit…" was the whispered reply from the Kuchiki between them, still impaled and impaling from both angles, "That was – fuck…"

* * *

Soft breath, still warm on the back of his neck, raising his hackles in a fuzzily pleasant manner, Kuraime decided that this was the perfect way to be awoken from a restful slumber. He yawned softly and glanced at the clock, seeing that it was a little past midnight.

_I can spare a few more minutes before I need to go back to sleep_…

He snuggled further down into the comforter and deeper into the strong golden arms wrapped around him from behind. Lifting his own left hand, he stroked lazily at the porcelain figure before him; his tan fingertips trailing feather-light touches up and down a narrow waist before him.

There was a storm gathering outside – rumbling thunder was threatening rain, yet refusing to burst the thick midnight clouds. The Kuchiki was too relaxed to turn on the lamp, content to stare peacefully into the flame of a single candle that was resting on the edge of the nightstand, illuminating the area in a dim glow.

It was utterly serene, lying there with both of his loves in his arms. Kuraime smiled to himself as he looked down at the slightly smaller Captain that he currently had his left arm draped over. He gently ran his long digits through the snowy hair, hearing the recipient sigh softly in his sleep, instinctively sinking closer to him.

He planted a kiss on top of the elder Shinigami's head, folding his free arm under the pillow beneath his head.

He sighed as he thought of how all of this had come to be. Never in his life would he, Kuraime Kuchiki, have thought that he could be deserving of the happiness that he was currently feeling. He hadn't just fallen in love…he had fallen in love with two of the most amazing – and infuriating – people that he had ever met.

He smiled softly against the sleeping Captain's head and tightened his grip around that slender waist. It was at that point that the warm body behind him decided to make his consciousness known by planting a feathery kiss on the tan shoulder of the Kuchiki, startling him slightly.

Turning his body half-way onto his back, Kuraime met sleepy amber orbs. Those soft lips made contact with his forehead, brushing gently against the toasty flesh in a chaste kiss.

"Are you okay?"

That voice was husky as it slipped from between the hot lips and gusted against the 5th Division Captain's forehead in a puff of hot breath.

The Kuchiki nodded slowly in response, brushing his own kiss over the chiseled jaw line of the carrot-top, pulling a satisfied 'hmm' from the boy, "Are you?"

With a final soft press of lips to a tan cheek, the Kurosaki boy nodded groggily before laying his head back on the pillow, his arm subconsciously reaching passed the new Captain to rest on a porcelain hip.

"Thank you…"

The words were so soft that the Substitute could barely catch them, but when he did, his amber eyes peeled open to meet sapphire orbs full of admiration as the Kuchiki turned around in his embrace to press their chest together.

Blinking a few times to gather his wits, Ichigo pressed a firm kiss to Kuraime's scalp, frowning slightly, "Whatever for…?"

There was a moment of silence before slightly louder and more determined words followed the softer ones, "You know what I mean. I don't think I've ever been happier…"

With a pleasant realization, Ichigo smiled tenderly at the man in his arms, tightening his grip on the pale hip on the other side of that caramel body. The added pressure roused the eldest Captain from his slumber, a set of sleepy teal eyes turning to face the duo behind him.

"Is something wrong? It's late…"

A slender wrist rose to rub the back of his eyes into clarity before they locked back onto the pair before him. Confusion was bright and obvious in his slightly startled orbs as two pair of contrasting jewels stared back at him with an indecipherable emotion.

He didn't have long to wonder as two sets of arms wrapped around him and pulled him flush against the man between him and the carrot-top, cocooning him in a tight embrace. No answer was attempted by either party, though at this point it didn't truly matter to the tendo.

He was caught slightly off guard when Kuraime started to lean into him, lips hovering mere centimeters away from his own, the younger Shinigami's hot breath ghosting over his own parted lips.

His eyes wandered to the tan, parted lips in front of his, and he felt his eyes slide shut on instinct as the younger man closed the short distance between them. He could feel the Kuchiki brush his lips against his own tentatively, a gentle hand trailing down his right bicep, firmly holding on to his elbow. The soft lips kissed him gently, before brushing lightly against his again, finally bringing them into another firm, tender kiss.

He parted his lips as he felt the other's tongue glide along his bottom lip. It was a sensual kiss, one that made the 10th Division Captain shiver and pull the younger man closer – one that set off an electric shudder down his spine. Toshirou melted into the kiss, enjoying and becoming addicted to the other man's taste once more. No matter how many times they kissed, he never got tired of it.

They pulled away, slightly breathless, lips still brushing, before locking them together once more. Toshirou wrapped his arms around the Kuchiki's neck, holding him in place, deepening the kiss. Tan arms wrapped around his waist and hugged him close.

The frosty Captain gasped as he felt the other man's arousal, and suddenly remembered where he was and what he had been meaning to ask. He pulled away from the other, flushed, and breathless. His eyes hazy with his own desire, he opened his mouth to speak but a soft kiss from different, yet familiar, lips cut him off.

A soft chuckle of mirth echoed through to dark room, the dim glow of the candles flickering along the golden skin of long-fingered hand that trailed lazily down a porcelain spine.

"Hmmm…this is nice."

As the two sets of lips parted hesitantly, amber and teal orbs met sapphire eyes in the soft light, silently asking the obvious question that hung in the air. The relaxed Kuchiki sat up in the bed, wrapping an arm around each Shinigami before planting quick kisses on both foreheads.

"I love you. Both of you…"

He looked at his first love, bleary-eyed and still hazily drowsy with sleep, "Toshirou…I know that this hasn't been the easiest road for either of us, and for that I am sorry. I know that I have brought all of the stress and pain that you have experienced for the last five years, and I would be lying if I said that I didn't regret some of the choices I've made."

"I realize that things probably would have been a hell of a lot easier if I had just trusted my heart in the end, as opposed to doing what I thought my family would have me do. You were always so good to me and you didn't deserve the treatment that you received. I know that it is going to be hard and it will take a lot of time, but I eventually want to make these last few years and all of that grief up to you…"

Teal eyes watched as the Kuchiki voiced his feelings, pouring all of his wishes and regrets out to be seen by all, and he couldn't bring himself to feel angry or sad at the blatant direction in which this conversation was going: the past.

It was true that the last five years had been nothing short of a maelstrom of error and instability, and that everyone involved had felt the entire spectrum of emotion, but it would also be a lie to say that, in the end, it hadn't all been worth it somehow.

Even though they had spent vast amounts of time in tears over anger, sadness, and guilt…everything had managed to piece itself back together. The wounds that had lain open and bleeding for so many years were finally beginning to mend and heal, the pain nearly nonexistent now.

As the new Captain continued his speech, the 10th Division leader had stopped listening, and decided that this talk was too stuffy for the present situation. Raising a pale hand, he rested slender fingers over moving lips, silencing them with the pads of his subtly callused digits.

Sapphire jewels widened slightly at the action, not quite sure what to make of the gesture, yet waiting patiently to see the results. He didn't have to wait long as the icy Captain replaced his fingers with soft lips, evoking a tiny gasp of surprise from the Kuchiki.

"You do realize that I forgave you for all of that over a month ago, don't you?"

He watched as vibrant orbs widened even further, moisture gathering in them silently as the frosty tendo continued, "I haven't been mad about any of that for a while, and you shouldn't feel so guilty. Everything that has happened has worked out for the best, and how am I supposed to be upset about that?"

Toshirou watched as those brilliant blue eyes began to fill quickly with tears of relief and love. He smiled softly at the tan face before him, glancing behind it to see amber orbs softening in affection and a golden arm reaching out to wrap itself around a caramel chest.

A husky voice, scratchy from sleep, responded in turn, "Kuraime, he's right. I don't think you understand just how important you are to us. Without you, we would still have a communication rift between the two of us. I don't mean to sound like we're taking advantage of you, but you can be used as a great bridge between the both of us…"

Thunder rumbled once more in the distance, filling the silence that hung between the three Shinigami. As the sounds of the wind whistled through the room while it whipped harshly against the windowpanes, Kuraime lifted a hand to grip a golden forearm that rested against his collarbone. His other hand pulled a thin alabaster wrist toward him, coaxing the smaller body forward. Once the 5th Division Captain was nestled tightly between the two toned bodies, he breathed a sigh of relief and resignation, planting soft kisses on the arms around him and the forehead before him.

"Thank you…both of you."

Ichigo's strong, vaguely orange-scented, arms lowered the three of them to a laying position once more, hearing soft drops of precipitation pitter against the glass of the window, lulling the three into a peaceful lethargy. Kuraime's arms came around the slighter Shinigami before him, burying his nose in the snowy hair, taking in the familiar scents of vanilla and sandalwood.

These things: warmth, scent, rain, candlelight, and hot breath… These were a comfort – a familiarity and a security that shouldn't have been such a normal luxury in such a short period of time. But regardless of the fact that he had wronged these men in more ways than one, Kuraime couldn't stop that heat in his chest as it tightened in the stark realization of just how much he truly was loved and needed.

Sure, he had broken the other Captain's heart on more than on occasion; taken blatant advantage of the younger Substitute in his alcohol-induced vulnerability; stolen Toshirou's body on the cold bathroom wall when it wasn't his to take; and asked for forgiveness and love that wasn't deserved in the least bit…

But the rain was falling then, washing away all of those painful years of solitude and self-loathing.

So, as the three of them fell into a pleasant state of half-consciousness, their bodies as entwined as their hearts had become, Kuraime managed a soft whisper against the pale forehead against his lips.

"I have never felt happier…and things can only get better from here."

* * *

**A/N:** Well, that's it, you guys! I hope that you enjoyed the story and leave me some love in the form of a review. In the future I may decide to write some companion pieces for this story, so keep your eyes open for them. I shall mark them appropriately in the summaries. Again, thank you to Kuraime-Zhen for the use of his OC, and I hope that I didn't disappoint.


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